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Jack Curzon 

A.: 

{Being a portion of the Records of the Managing Clerk of 
Martin^ Thompson 6^ Co.^ English Merchants 
doing business in Hong Kong, Manila^ 

Cebu and the Straits Settlements) 


A NOVEL 


BY 

Archibald Claverinq Gunter, 


**Mr. Barnes of New York,” “Bob Covington,” 
“Billy Hamilton” etc., etc. 


NEW YORK 

THE HOME PUBLISHING COMPANY, 

3 East Fourteenth Street 





21-^95 


Copyright, 1898, 
By a. C. GUNTER 


All Rights Reserved. 


'n7CCCr!ES REG 


i-J* 





n D 1 




p . . 


i 


/ 

CONTENTS. 


BOOK I. 

MY CONTRACT WITH THE KATIPUNAN. 

{Being a portion of the records of the mafiaging clerk of 
Martin^ Thompso7i Co.^ English Merchants doing 
business in Hong Kong^ Manila^ Cebu^ and the Straits 
Settlements 1) 

CHAP. PAGE 

I. “you SABE, MANILA NO GOOD ! ” 5 

II. ON THE PACIFIC MAIL BOAT 21 

III. “this message to my sailor boy ! ” 29 

IV. “ BROTHERS, I SMELL A STRANGER I” 39 

V. ATA TONGA 53 

BOOK 11.^ 

THE DAUGHTERS OF THE EXPATRIATED AMERICAN. 

VI. A FILIPINO TIFFIN 65 

VII. THE WAR OF TORTURERS AGAINST DEMONS 79 

VIII. EL CORREGIDOR 92 

IX. THE OPERA AT EL TEATRO ZORILLA IO5 

X. AN AFTERNOON ON THE LUNETA II5 

XL THE COCK-FIGHT IN THE TONDO I25 

XII. HERR LUDENBAUM TAKES BREAKFAST ON THE 

ANCONA 139 

XIII. THE MUTINY OF THE CARABINEROS 1 46 

iii 


IV 


CONTENTS. 


BOOK III. 

THE TRIUMPH OF THE GERMAN. 

CHAP. PAGE 

XIV. ‘^DID YOU GET 1 HAT PACKAGE THROUGH THE 

CUSTOM HOUSE ? ” l6l 

XV. kick THE JU^GE OF THE SUPREME COURT 

OF MANILA DOWN MY STEPS ” 1 74 

XVI. THE EMPTY HOUSE ON THE CALZADA SAN MIGUEL. 1 84 

XVII. FINE NEWS FOR PHIL MARSTON OF THE U. S. 

NAVY ! ” ... 19 1 

mil. “ that's A YARN FOR THE MARINES!" 1 99 

XIX. THE DATE BOOK OF THE CHINAMAN 207 

XX. THE VENGEANCE OF A NATION 215 


BOOK IV. 

DIVORCE BY COURT MARTIAL. 

XXL “GOL DARN IT I I HEAR THE EAGLE SCREAM ! ".. 22 5 


XXII. INTO THE LAND SHE DREADS 236 

XXIII. THE KITE OF THE CHINAMAN 246 

XXIV. CHACO, THE PATRIOT 255 

XXV. WEDDED BY DECREE .... 266 

XXVI. INTO THE LION's MOUTH 279 

XXVII. DIVORCE BY COURT MARTIAL 292 


XXVIII. “ DEAR ONE, YOU LOOK NOTON MY DYING FACE 1 " 304 

BOOK V. 

SPOILS OF VICTORY. 

XXIX. THE FILIPINO WEDDING. {Taken frOM the 
records of John Talboys Curzon^ late inter- 


preter of Dewey's Squadron.) 316 

APPENDIX i 


JACK CURZON. 


BOOK I. 

MY CONTRACT WITH THE KATIPUNAN. 


( Being a portion of the Records of the Managing Clerk of Martin, Thompson 
& Co., English Merchants doing business in Hong Kong, Manila, Cebu and 
the Straits Settlements.) 


CHAPTER 1 . 

** YOU SABE, MANILA NO GOOD ! ” 

Hong Kong is sizzling in a summer day of 1896. 
But Hong Kong always sizzles ; not that the ther- 
mometer is so high, but the humidity is so tremendous. 

*‘By Jove, Jack, I’ve lived in the furnace air of 
upper Egypt, Dongola, and all that, don’t yer know,” 
mutters little Ponsomby of the postal service, “ but 
hang me, this is existing in ‘ biling ’ water. Next we 
will have ‘ biling ’ oil a la Mikado / Why the deuce 
don’t those beastly punka-boys stir their lazy car- 
casses ? ” 

But I, John Talboys Curzon, am too languid to 
answer this remark, and sit lazily listening to the 
creaking of the punka, dreamily looking out of the 
window of the English Club on the passing concourse 
of Wyndham Street and Queen’s Road, and wishing I 
was over at Kowlung on the other side of the harbor 
where the southwest monsoon blows upon the pretty 
white villas, and gives a little relief to the infernal 
sizzle of humanity in the British metropolis of south- 
eastern China. 

The passers-by on the main thoroughfare of Hong 
Kong do not interest me greatly. 

5 


6 


JACK CURZON. 


On this hot day even the coolies as they carry sedan 
chairs or run about with jinrikshas are languid ; the 
semi-occasional Sikh policeman in his crimson turban, 
though born on the burning plains of Central India, 
seems not quite as alert in pursuit of Chinese male- 
factors as usual. The few Europeans in the Club are 
wildly calling for cooling drinks. The whole place 
seems like a boiling hell. 

Semi-occasionally I glance out at the big clock in 
the stone tower or consult my watch, for I am await- 
ing the arrival of the Pacific Mail Steamship City of 
Pekin from San Francisco, which has been indicated 
by the flags on top of the hill at the Signal Station, 
and know I will have a hot job of it in transferring 
Miss Maud Ysabel Gordon of Luzon from that boat to 
the Esmeralda, which will take her to her father’s and 
sister’s arms at Manila. 

My connection with her family began in 1895 ; 
though up to this moment I have never yet seen the 
young lady I am to greet on the incoming steamer ; 
my interest in Maud Ysabel arising from my relation- 
ship to Mazie Inez Gordon, her younger sister in 
Manila, I happening to be the fiancd of that young 
lady of infinite Eastern graces, beautiful Spanish eyes 
and Saxon lilies. 

I can well remember when I announced my engage- 
ment in the English Club at Manila, the consterna- 
tion of my chums and intimates. 

“What, marry the daughter of 'Bully* Gordon? 
Hang it. Jack, your future father-in-law will make you 
walk the plank some fine night ! In his early days 
they say ^ Bully ’ was little better than a pirate,” sug- 
gested young Johnson, the agent for the great hemp 
firm of Jones, Goring & Co., of Cebu and London. 

“ By all the Tagal dialects,” little Simpson of the 
English Consulate cried, “this is the crowning piece 
of your bad luck, my poor fellow ! ” 

Here his voice grew low, and he whispered in my 
ear this by no means complimentary remark : “ Bully 
wdll never let you off. He is so anxious to get his 
daughter out of the clutches of the Church which he 
hates with the hate of a Puritan, though there is little 
of that save its rancor in his nature.” 

"Mein Gotti You are going to marry Fraiilein 


JACK CURZON. 


7 


Mazie Gordon ? Donner und Blitzen T' chuckled Herr 
Adolph Max Ludenbaum, one of the big German 
merchants of Manila, whose hemp capacity and 
numerous German thalers have squeezed him into the 
English Club, Then taking me aside, he whispered to 
my astonishment, for up to this moment Herr Adolph 
had never taken very much interest in me : “ Mein 
young man, let me give you warning. Mein friendt, 
Capital! Silas Salem Gordon is not looked on with 
kindly eyes by the Spanish officials. Look out dot 
you don’t get into a grand government trouble. Re- 
member der interests of your firm.” 

“ I always do,” I reply, I never smuggle." Aremark 
that puts a scowl upon the fat face of Herr Adolph, 
and makes him rub uneasily together his plump hands 
already greasy with Manila humidity. 

These warnings about “Bully ” Gordon did not please 
me a little bit, as I thought of Mazie’s sweet Filipina 
graces tempered by her father’s Yankee blood into a 
darling mixture of Castilian archness and New England 
passion. 

As to troubles, I am used to them since I was born. 
If any baby fell out of the cradle in the nursery, Jack 
Curzon was the baby. At school, if any boy threw a 
stone, Jack Curzon connected with the wrong end of 
its line of flight. In after life, in the first business 
venture of my career, for with my usual good fortune 
I was born the youngest of a large family, and had to 
step out and carve my own way with a small moiety 
from my mother’s estate, I got the worst of it. 

Taking the usual course of cadets of fair English 
families, I left my home to push my fortune. Invest- 
ing my little capital in an Australian sheep-farm, which 
was smitten with the drought the year after I bought 
it, I found myself almost at my last sovereign. Drift- 
ing from Melbourne to China, I finally reached Hong 
Kong some eight years before, becoming the junior of 
the numerous clerks of Martin, Thompson & Co., en- 
gaged in the Sulu, Visaya, Luzon, Cebu, Penang and 
Straits Settlements trade. Then by the worst luck of 
all, at least, so my office companions thought, I was 
exiled to Manila to conquer the mysteries of the hemp 
and tobacco traffics. 

But all lanes have their cross-roads, and in Manila, 


8 


JACK CURZON. 


having had fortunately full charge of the business, 
it grew under me, and I shortly afterwards was trans- 
ferred and made the Hong Kong manager of the busi- 
ness of Martin, Thompson & Co, 

But of all the lucky things that came to mein Manila 
in the year 1896, 1 bless God most for Senorita Mazie 
Inez Gordon of the Island of Luzon, as sweet a creature 
as ever that sun which brings to early maturity, flowers 
and women alike, shone upon. 

In the course of business I had had the opportunity 
of doing a great favor to the father of the young lady, 
El Capitan Don Silas Salem Gordon. 

This gentleman had been familiarly known and 
dreaded in the early “ fifties ” and “ sixties ” as “ Bully 
Gordon, and celebrated as the toughest American 
skipper who ever sailed a ship in Chinese waters. 
Having given his Yankee name a Spanish twist he was 
now addressed as Don Silas Salem Gordon, and had 
become a subject of Spain. 

This had come about as follows. Being wrecked 
in 1867 on the north coast of Luzon, under circum- 
stances that made the underwriters of his vessel 
very anxious to put their hands on him, Gordon 
after loss of his ship had remained in the great island 
of the Philippines and gone into the tobacco trade, 
where he did smuggling galore in conjunction with 
Spanish revenue officers on the north coast of the 
island. V/ith the capital gained from this he had be- 
come a tobacco planter in the lovely province of Nueva 
Ecija. 

To increase his estate, he had married in 1872 the 
great Spanish heiress of the neighborhood. Dona Luisa 
Areles, though probably the girPs charms had had 
something to do with it, for the mother of my fiancee 
must have been a Spanish beauty ; though the mixture 
of the Caucasian of the Yankee sea-captain with the 
pure Castilian stream of the Iberian mother had pro- 
duced a vivacious loveliness in Gordon's two daughters 
that comes only where the blood of two diverse races 
are discreetly mixed. 

Don Silas being in Manila on business, had brought 
his youngest daughter of scarce sixteen with him. 
But women develop early in a Tropic land and I 
had promptly fallen in love with her. 


JACK CURZON. 


9 


Her elder sister, my sweetheart had told me, was in 
the United States, having been sent there to be edu- 
cated, her father wishing to put more of the Yankee 
combativeness in her. “Bully” even remarking to 
me: “Mazie, will never be able to stand up against 
procuradores, pica-pleitos and other legal cormorants 
when I am dead. Her fortune will be a prey to them. 
But let Maud get a good Yankee training, and hang 
me, she will take care of her own and her sister's 
property. Fll risk Maudie against the corregidor the 
Supreme Court of Manila combined, that is, if she can 
get the United States Consul to help her.” 

“ Why don’t you go to Daland, yourself, if you expect 
trouble with the Spanish officials? ” I query. 

“ How can I after renouncing American citizenship,” 
mutters the poor fellow, his face becoming anxious, for 
he knows he has cut himself off from American 
protection, having become a subject of Spain in order 
to hold his land on the island, and furthermore, being 
very well aware he is on the bad books of the Spanish 
government on account of a claim he has against 
certain officials for some very valuable tobacco lands 
to which he declares he has the titulo real from his dead 
wife, they refusing to admit his title, though the late 
Senora Gordon’s family had had possession of the same 
for over a hundred years. 

Two months before this day on which I am medi- 
tating in the Chinese metropolis, I had been called by 
urgent business from my sweetheart’s arms in Manila to 
Hong Kong, and had left her with a strange anxiety 
in my heart, for Mazie^s manner had become anxious 
also. 

“ It is not for myself, I fear, Sehor Juan — no. I’ll call 
you Jack,” she whispered to me, “it is for that great 
man, my father. The of Nueva Ecija hates 

him ; the Bishop of Pampanga does not love him ; 
Captain-General Blanco shrugs his shoulders when he 
hears his name mentioned. My father will fight so for 
his rights. He is like the noble toro in the bull-ring ; he 
is equal .to the bravest game-cock at the Gallina de 
Tondo. But there are too many of them against him. 
O Dios de mi madre, if my sister were but here ! She 
was so strong in character. All the servants loved 
her for her fighting strength ; not that they feared her, 


lO 


JACK CURZON. 


for she was ever kind to them. Even Ata Tonga, the 
fierce Tagal on my father^s estates, worshiped her and 
would have taken a beating kindly from her, t)ecause 
she was always just to him. Ata Tonga, he of the 
wondrous nose ; he who can smell like a dog and has 
the devotion of a mastiff and the ferocity of a blood- 
hound, Ata Tonga said : ‘ When Senorita Maud 

cometh it is like the perfume of new-blown roses in 
the air. When I smell the Corregtdor, it is the odor 
of the daghong-palay , the deadly snake of the rice fields. 
When my nostrils catch the stink of the German, it is 
like the oily, fetid, sickening pickle-flavor of the ana- 
conda, who twines about, crushes, and then devours 
his prey.’ Caramba I ” laughs my naughty darling, 
whose profanity is of the most bewitching Spanish 
order, “How Ata Tongh used to hate our German 
friend.” 

“ German ! What German ? ” I whisper. 

“Why, Herr Adolph Max Ludenbaum, of course. 
Ata Tonga thought my father’s old German comrade 
was a villain, though I do not believe Ata. Dear Senor 
Adolph has been so good to all of us, and of such as- 
sistance to mi padre in his troubles. When we were 
children, Adolph dandled me and my sister on his 
Teutonic knees.” 

“By thegod-of-war,” I snarl, “he loves you ! ” 

“Ah no, jealous one,” laughs the girl, tapping me 
with her fan in charming Filipina coquetry. “ Not 
me I I’ve heard he loved my poor dead mother,” says 
the girl with a little sigh* “ though that can’t be true 
either, for he adores my father. At all events, Herr 
Adolph always liked my sister best when we were 
children ; petted her the most, and gave Ysabel the 
most dukes when he visited our tobacco plantation 
under old Montes de Baler, the grand peaks that rise 
high above the plains of the Pampanga, those great 
pampas where the wild buffalo herd ; that wondrous 
land which reaches the mighty mountains among 
which the Negritos, the little savages, find refuge from 
the Spanish tax-gatherer.” 

“Still I do not like your German friend,” I mutter 
savagely. 

“Tra-la-la! Herr Ludenbaum has made you so 
wildly jealous, Senor Juan, that I must play the latest 


JACK CURZON. 


II 


dance music to soothe mi cahallero." And my darling 
sits down at the grand piano in their beautiful villa 
just up the Pasig River, in the suburb of San Miguel, 
and dashes off for me the popular “ Washington Post 
March ” with the vivacity of a Rubenstein and the soft, 
pathetic, sensuous touch of a true music-loving Filipina. 

“By George, that’s one of Sousa’s, the American 
composer’s melodies ! ” I say, having heard Jimmie 
Bolton, who has just arrived from San Francisco, 
whistling the ditty at the Club. 

“ Yes, my sister has just sent me a lot of music from 
the United States. You know Maud graduates this 
year at that great girl’s school where papa says they 
are taught to have confidence in themselves like men, 
not to be nice, demure, little convent girls, as 1 was. 
You know the place I mean ; that great, great Colegio 
de — de — ” and Mazie snaps her fingers castanet fash- 
ion, de — Vassar. I have it now! Ysabel’s letters 
are all about America. She writes about going to a 
ball, madre mia, without a duenna, given by the ca- 
dets at — at — at,” Mazie again snaps her pretty fingers 
appealingly. 

“At West Point,” I interject. 

“ No ! That is not the name.” 

“ At Annapolis ? ” I suggest. 

** Santa Maria, yes! Where they make fighting 
sailors,” cries the girl delighted. “ What a wonderful 
guesser you are, Juan.” Then she flies on : “Maud 
writes that her Spanish manner was so effective. You 
know what I mean — a fan — the eyes — the — the lips.” 

“ Oh, don't I I ” I mutter rapturously. 

“ So effective that a young Japanese warrior study- 
ing there by the permission of the United States and 
by order of the Mikado, said he was proud of Ysabel as 
a product of the great islands of the Pacific. But then 
Maud didn’t care so much for the Jap.” 

“Ah, there was another fellow,” I mutter. 

“ Santissima, you have guessed it again I ” Mazie’s 
eyes grow big. 

“ It is a secret ? ” 

“Yes. A young naval sailor muchacho, an Ameri- 
cano, Filipo Preble Marston, of the United States 
Navy — I know the name very well, Ysabel writes it so 
often — , said that he must and would be her first fa- 


12 


JACK CURZON. 


vorite, caballero especial, because his name was Filipo, 
and Senorita Maud Ysabel Gordon was a Filipina. 
From Maud’s letters this Senor Filipo must be a won- 
derful man. He does not make love at a distance 
like Spaniards. He doesn't play the guitar beneath 
her window. He simply says : ‘Surrender at once 
you little Spanish beauty, and I’ll hoist the American 
flag upon you before you know you’re captured ! ’ 
Diablo f what did he mean by that ? ” 

“About the same, I imagine,” I reply, “as I did 
when I said to you : ‘ You dear little Spanish-American 
witch, you’re the prettiest chick in the Philippines, and 
I ” 

“ Oh yes, I remember what you said. You needn’t 
tell me about that now. I blush every time I think of 
it,” murmurs my sweetheart ; then breaks out : “ Oh, 
you don’t know what wondrous letters my sister writes. 
She tells me of things I couldn’t believe if I didn’t see 
them here in miniature ; of railroads a thousand miles 
long ; that young ladies often wear boots instead of 
slippers — think of that I Isn’t it bold? Besides Maud 
uses language sometimes I can’t understand. She tells 
me that I must be a bang-up Americano, a bully Yan- 
kee. Does that come from the great name my papa 
has received in honor of his courage ? ” 

To this I do not reply. I grimly think of the awful 
tales of shanghied sailors ; of her father’s performances 
with marlinspike and rope’s end ; of his desperate fights 
with revenue boats when opium smuggling, and one 
or two little Sulu episodes that were next door to 
piracy, but have been forgotten in the lapse of years, 
which have given my little tender sweetheart’s 
Yankee father the cognomen of which she is so 
proud. 

Therefore, I do not answer her, but turning the sub- 
ject, suggest ; “By-the-by, what does thatTagal of the 
wondrous nose think that you smell like, my sweet 
one ? ” 

“ Like orchids,” laughs my darling. 

“Why, orchids have no smell to speak of.” 

“Neither do I. I hope, to your obtuse organ,” laughs 
my charmer. “ But to Ata’s delicate nostrils I have 
the perfume of orchids and smell like coriander seed»t5 
At least he says so.” 


JACK CURZON. 


13 

*‘And your father, does he smell like a musk-mel- 
on ? ” I jeer. 

''Santa Maria, no! Ata says papa’s scent when 
he does not disguise it with rum, is like that of fresh 
killed cattle ; he has so much savage blood flowing in 
his fighting veins. Dios mio, you shall not laugh I she 
adds petulantly. ‘‘Don’t you know, you grinning 
Englishman, that there are whole tribes whose scent is 
as acute as that of sleuth-hounds ; that they can track 
anything by its perfume ; that they live in a different 
world from us ; that they know their enemy is walking 
around the corner before he comes in sight. They 
even say they tell -by scent when their sweethearts 
love them.”* 

‘ ‘ Ah, then I hope that orchids and coriander seeds 
mean constancy, ” I mutter. 

“They do, Dios mio, they do ! ” 

“ And this wonderful creature, this Ata Tonga, who 
can tell by his nose what other men can’t discov er with 
all their five senses, where is he ? ” I laugh. “ I want 
to examine him about you,Mazie, to see if the perfume 
of orchids and coriander still remain with you.” 

“ Oh, Ata Tonga went away soon after my sister left 
for America. He had not the heart, he said, to remain 
when the perfume of the wild roses no longer came to 
his nostrils. Like his highly impressionable race, he 
loves or hates fiercely. He would have drooped, had 
he remained, he said, after the ship had taken away to 
the distant land the being who had her hand upon 
his heart. My father declared Ata’s education made 
him restless. He said we had been fools to send the 

* This wonderful development of the organs of the sense of smell 
in certain tribes of Tagals has been noticed by all who have ex- 
plored or traveled in the interior of the Island of Luzon, and has 
been commented on by them extensively. 

Sir John Bowring in his work on the Philippine Islands in 1854, 
speaks of the very strong lines that run from the nose to the mouth 
in these tribes, whose nostrils have the power of expansion like those 
of a dog, and whose sense of smell is as acute. In the act of kiss- 
ing, lovers contract their nostrils to determine if their sweethearts 
are true to them. By their sense of smell 'they can distinguish their 
masters and mistresses. 

John Foreman in his travels in these islands, published in 1890, 
also comments upon this extraordinary development of this sense 
among the Tagals, though it does not extend to the whole com- 
munity, — Ed. 


JACK CURZON. 


14 

wild boy who had come to us from the mountains to 
the Padre’s school to have him taught to read and write. 
It would put the Devil into him. So Ata Tonga went 
away from us. I have not seen him for four years. 
Perhaps when Maud returns, her boy, as he calls him- 
self, will find us again.” 

“Yes, perhaps he will sniff wild roses five hundred 
miles from here and track her to you. So Ata Tonga 
is an educated savage.” 

“Wonderfully so. Besides the accomplishments of 
reading and writing and some little arithmetic, he is 
musical like all Filipinos and plays the trombone beau- 
tifully,” laughs Mazie. 

“And to them adds the instincts of a savage,” I 
suggest. 

“Yes, Ata has the eye of a hawk, the nose of a 
hound,” cries the girl, “the courage of a game cock 
and the faithfulness of a Filipino for his mistress that 
he loves.” 

“So you Filipinas are all faithful. You love once, 
you love forever,” I say and take my sweetheart in 
my arms. 

But to my astonishment she mutters: “Yes, faith- 
ful — faithful to death.” Then, breaking from my sobs : 
“ Though the Cura says ” 

“ Well ; what does the padre say ? ” 

“Oh, nothing. Don’t agitate me!” The Senorita 
looks agitated and distressed; then dashes on : “Let 
me tell you of my sister. Ysabel writes me letters 
from America that give me spasms of delight. Some 
day you will take me there, Jack, after you — you 
have” and she hides her head, which is now blush- 

ing red as the blossoms of the fire-tree. 

“ Married you ? ” I whisper. 

''Dios mio, yes, Jack ! All my life commences a/ler 
you have — have married me,” and for some unex- 
plained reason Mazie commences to cry as if her lovely 
dark eyes were the fountains of perpetual beauty. 

“Why are you weeping.?” I gasp, astonished. 

“ Oh, I — I don’t like to explain to you. Ask papa ; 
he will tell you better than I, Jack, the awful news. 
Go away from me I You break my heart ! ” And to 
give the lie to this speech Mazie Inez throws her arms 
around my neck and kisses me with tropic passion, 


JACK CURZON. 


15 


and her lips smell hot like coriander seed, but as 
roses dewy with love for me, the phlegmatic English- 
man who adores this mixture of Spanish archness and 
American coquetry. 

So I leave her alone, for our meetings have been 
on the American order ; her father, thank God, having 
permitted an Anglo-Saxon freedom of intercourse with 
my betrothed. Of course there has been a duenna in 
the house, a sort of third or fourth cousin, DonaValrigo, 
a Spanish lady of well developed cigarette habit, ter- 
rific age and most retiring manners ; so retiring that 
she has never interfered with my tete-a-tetes with my 
fiancee. Perhaps we have been a scandal to the 
Spanish community, but I don’t care, and even now 
as I sit in the Hong Kong Club, I see in my memory, 
Mazie’s white arms coming from the soft pina gauzes 
of a Filipina robe, her little feet clothed with conven- 
tional silken hosiery of the European, but driven into 
the petite slippers of the Philippines called chinelas, 
her dark eyes beaming on me, the Saxon lilies of her 
cheeks covered with maiden blushes, the soft music of 
her voice ringing after me : “ My Jack ! ” as I go from 
her to her father to ask: “What is the meaning of 
this ? Mazie hints to me there is some obstacle to our 
coming wedding.” 

In answer to my question, old Gordon, who has 
been browned to Malay color by forty years in the 
hottest tropics, and wrinkled to infinity by unending 
contest with fellow-man, liquor, and fate, growls out in 
Yankee twang: '^Carrajo! Diablo! I mean damn it! 
dash it ! hang it I The infernal padre has put his 
accursed clerical nose into your marriage contract, 
my British lion.” 

‘ ‘ What has he done ” I falter. 

“He has condemned you ^ hereje to perpetual 
celibacy. Unless you become a member of the Church 
of the Philippines and carry image in the procession, 
Mazie and you will never fall foul of each other.” 

“ But Mazie, will she stand it ? ” I ask uneasily. 

“Blow it, that’s your breaker ahead. Mazie is a 
good girl and believes in her religion, and thinks she 
should do the commands of the Church and all that 
kind of sanctimonious rot. As for me, I joined the 
Church when I became a Spanish subject. Santo 


i6 


JACK CURZON. 


Dios I I mean hell and damnation! I had to," the 
Yankee sea-dog snarls, “to get my fist on the lands 
that belonged to me. And then after I had blessed 
myself with holy water, marched in procession at 
carnival time and by Cape Cod 1 done penance with 
burning candles, they have gone back on their con- 
tracts with me, and are trying to do me and my 
daughters out of an estate worth half a million pesos. 
But," here he snaps his Yankee jaws together with the 
click of a bear-trap, “by Paul Jones and Yankee 
Doodle, I, the renegado, the Yankee who can’t look 
his flag in the face, have put a wrinkle on these Spanish 
cormorants that’ll make them open their infernal 
pirate peepers I " 

“What is it?" I whisper anxiously. “Perhaps I 
can aid you." 

“No, by Columbia and the god of war, I don't 
need any aid in this matter I " mutters the sea-dog in 
savage sturdiness. “I’ve got ’em tighter than a 
shanghied sailor. But this is under hatches till I spring 
it on ’em ; but as you’re going to be in the family, for 
if I know the cut of your jib. Jack Curzon, you’re not 
the man who’s going to be stopped from grabbing 
hold of a pretty girl by priest or layman. Santa 
Maria I I mean. Blast my eyes I if I thought you would, 
damn me if I’d let you have her. So I’ll tell you of my 
little joke upon the Corregidor of Nueva Ecija and the 
Supreme Court of Manila combined." Here his voice 
becomes very low as he whispers : “ You know I sent 
my daughter, Maud Ysabel — I had to mix the poor 
child’s name and make it half Spanish to please her 
mother — to the United States to be educated, for two 
tremendous reasons. First, Maud has got a bull-dog, 
fight-it-out yard-arm-to-yard-arm, spirit like mine, 
though it is veiled with a feminine softness and Yankee 
cuteness that makes her a diahlo of a girl in a scrim- 
mage Even that blasted Tagal, Ata Tonga, the sur- 
liest brute I ever thrashed, worships and adores her ; 
because she has spunk enough to thump the life out of 
him if he ever disobeyed her. Well, with that spirit 
added to an American education, Maud will make a 
pretty lively fight, not only for her own rights, but for 
those of your Poll." 

“My Poll?" 


JACK CURZON, 


17 


**Yes, your gal, your Portsmouth Polly, the lass 
that will wait for you when you come home from a 
cruise to the club at night,” grins the sea-dog, “after 
you’re spliced to her.” Then he goes on, and his 
words now almost takes my breath away: “But I 
reckoned Maud must have the weapons to fight this 
accursed gang of procuradores, officials and pica 
pleitos, and how the devil should I arm her ag’inst 
’em. Suddenly it struck me like a chain-shot, and 
when four years ago, I sent Ysabel to Yankee land, 
I gave her certain instructions, and Maud writes 
me she has fulfilled ’em. Here’s her letter ! That 
doesn’t give it away, does it ? ” 

And he hands me an epistle in pretty refined femi- 
nine hand, which reads : 

Dear Papa, 

I am returning to the Philippines soon after the graduation. 
As I am twenty-one now, I have followed your directions. Tell you 
all about it, and much more^ when I arrive. I’ve a sensation for you 
and Mazie. 

Give my love to my darling little sister, and say I shall bring lots 
of gowns for her, ana kisses for you both. 

Your devoted Yankee daughter, 

Maud Ysab^:l Gordon. 

As I gaze on this. Bully Gordon’s voice startles me, 
it has such a jeering Yankee twang in its gruff tones. 
He laughs : “If they overhaul my letters in the post- 
office, no Spanish official from that will guess that 
my daughter Maud Ysabel Gordon has, under my direc- 
tion, taken out her papers while in America and be- 
come a citizen of the United States^ and will now fight 
the damn Spaniards under Old Glory. Good as gold, 
ain’t it! Caramha! I mean damn it 1 let them dare 
put their hands on her I They may down me,” adds 
the ex-sea-captain, as I stare at him astounded at the 
sharpness of his idea, and delighted at the strength it 
will give his daughter in her fight for her own and my 
sweetheart’s rights, “they may garote me, and / 
can’t appeal to the American Consul because I’ve 
cut loose from the bird of freedom, but Maud under 
the American flag. I’ll risk her to smash the Captain- 
General. Miss Goddess of Liberty will be here in two 
or three months. Now what are you going to do, 


i8 


JACK CURZON. 


Jackey? Are you going to become a member of the 
Church at Manila, or are you going to stick to your re- 
ligion ? By-the-by, under what clerical colors do you 
sail anyway ? " 

“None at all, I imagine,’' I answer, ^‘though, of 
course, I was christened in the Church of England.” 

“Yes, I never guessed you were troubled with re- 
ligion very strong,” he laughs. “But what are you 
going to do about Mazie now the priests have tackled 
you.? As her daddy it’s my duty to ask.” 

“ Marry her,” I say promptly, “priest or no priest, 
Catholic or Protestant ! Whatever she is, Mazie’s the 
future Mrs. Jack Curzon ! ” 

“ Of course ; I knew you’d do that. When ? ” 

“The next time I return to Manila. I am called 
away for a month or two to Hong Kong. When I 
come back, if Mazie’s the girl I think her, she’ll marry 
me ; though whether I become a member of her Church 
to ease her religious scruples, shall be my consideration 
during my trip to China.” 

“All right, heave ahead ! In Hong Kong, you look 
out for my eldest daughter and get her transferred 
from the Pacific Mail boat to one of the steamers 
running here. Of course, Maud can handle herself, 
but like most gals, my darling likes to play the woman, 
give herself la-de-da, touch-me-and-I-faint feminine 
airs, though she could take the quarter-deck or head a 
boarding party in person. She’s nautical from truck 
to kelson ; always ran after the sea. It’s the Cape 
Cod blood in her, and it’s coming out strong in 
her over in Yankee land. I think even now she's 
spooney on a naval tar, one of the kind that boards a 
feminine craft and hoists a flag on her before the girl 
knows what he is doing, one Phil Marston. By Davy 
Jones, if he’s like his dad. Captain Jim Marston of the 
United States Navy, who thirty years ago chased me 
for a month in the China seas because they said I had 
shanghied a couple of California roustabouts, he’s a 
tough one, and he may land Maud Ysabel ; but Lord, 
after he’s spliced to Maud Ysabel, she’ll make him 
walk the plank if ' he goes cruising after strange 
feminine flags ! What do you say to that, my land- 
lubber ! ” 

“Say to it,” I laugh, “If Maud Ysabdl is half like 


JACK CURZON. 19 

her darling sister, Mazie Inez, no man could cruise 
after strange flags, when he's got her for his wife.” 

“You bet ! No man with blood in his body could 
run away from Maud's Venus figurehead. Lord bless 
yer, she looks as pretty as an opium dream. All I've 
got to do is to close my peepers and .see her figure like 
a Tahiti nymph, only with Spanish feet and Andalusian 
ankles ; arms and shoulders hard as ivory and white as 
cocoanut kernel, and as pretty a pair of full rounded 
bows as ever ruir a man down and sank him in the sea 
of matrimony. But it ain’t that I want to ‘alk to you 
about.” Here old Bully Gordon's face grows very 
serious, and his voice very low and cautious. “Young 
man, you don’t guess what's going on in these islands, 
but I do ; and if I know my sailing lights, and I think 
I do, there’s going to be one of the most tarnation 
political typhoons blowing in a few months that ever 
struck the Dons. It will be mixed with bullets and 
cannon-balls, too. So in case you get a telegram 
telling you to hold Maudie at Hong Kong, for I know 
her well enough to log, if I get into trouble she will 
come to the boarding nettings also, you put her in the 
charge of the American Consul at that port. Anchor 
her there till further orders.” 

“ Certainly ! ’’ 

“Remember this as God is above you ! If you get 
any wire from me, don't pay attention to its lingo, but 
hold the gal. They've a mighty 'cute official here who 
overhauls all telegrams. If 1 cable at all, you may 
know it's from a shipwrecked mariner on his beam 
ends upon a lee shore. Give me your flipper that 
you’ll keep your word.” 

He wrings my hand as I mutter huskily : “But her 
sister ? ” 

“Oh, Mazie won't get into trouble. She’s of the 
kind that’ll lay snug during a storm,” he remarks. 

Then, though Mazie clings to me and with many 
kisses renews her promises to be mine, I am compelled 
to tear myself away and board the steamer for Hong 
Kong. 

All this, memory brings to me as I sit seven hundred 
miles from Manila, gazing at Wyndham Street and 
Queen’s Road. 

But my musings are suddenly broken in upon by the 


20 


JACK CURZON. 


sharp boom of steamer's gun disturbing the breathless, 
torrid, humid air. The City of Pekin has arrived. I 
must go down to Pedlar’s Wharf, take sampan and 
meet this dashing American Yankee Filipina, who is 
coming to fight the Spaniards under the flag of the 
United States for her property and her sister’s. 

Even as I, mopping my brow, rise languidly to do 
this, a letter is handed to me by one of the Club boys, 
who says : “Sahib, this was just left at the door by a 
coolie. ” 

Carelessly I tear it open, and start astounded. For 
in characters that are a curious kind of half print, half 
script, I read: 




JACK CURZON. 


21 


CHAPTER II. 

ON THE PACIFIC MAIL BOAT. 

Remembering Gordon’s parting words, this paper 
gives me a shock. Can it be a warning ? The hiero- 
glyphics have apparently been written by a Chinese 
brush pen. The paper that bears them is that soft 
tissue of which tea wrappers are made, in use in every 
Chinese counting-room. Is this ambiguous communi- 
cation intended for the benefit of myself or of the 
young lady I am about to despatch to the Philippines ? 

Recollecting her father's last impressive order to 
stop Maud on any kind of a cablegram from him what- 
soever, I run out of the club, signal a 'riksha, and 
dragged by a sweating coolie, go down to the Praya 
to our main office. Here I find that no cable has 
come to me this day from anyWhere. 

To make doubly sure, I trot Mr. Coolie back, and at 
the general telegraph offices on Queen’s Road, dis- 
cover that no wire for me from Manila has arrived. 

“You seem anxious, Mr. Curzon,” remarks the 
delivery clerk, who knows me very well. “Are you 
afraid of trouble there ? ” 

I answer his question by another. “Why do you 
ask, Mr. Jones ? ” 

“ Because,” remarks Jones, “one or two commercial 
cables that have come over lately rather indicate they 
expect an insurgent outbreak or uprising in Luzon, and 
all of them have the appearance of being carefully cen- 
sored. Besides, a cable to the Spanish Gov ” Jones 

claps his jaws together and seems frightened at what 
he has said, remembering that all telegrams are sacred. 

This suggestion of the telegraph clerk increases my 
anxiety ; but still leaves me in doubt what course I 
shall take. Jones, despite inquiries on my part, will 
say nothing more. I have only a few hours to transfer 
my charge from the City of Pekin to the Esmeralda, 
which has been held for the former vessel’s arrival since 
the morning, as the Pacific mail boat is somewhat be- 
hind her schedule time. 


22 


JACK CURZON. 


Without more definite information I feel unauthor- 
ized to keep the young lady from her father and her 
sister. 

Suddenly I ask another question : ^‘Any cables for 
Miss Maud Ysabel Gordon, on the City of Pekin 

“Yes, one,'’ answers Jones, looking over his list. 
“Will you take it to Miss Gordon Her steamer is 
just in.” 

“Certainly,”! answer, and getting the envelope in 
my hand, think this will solve my problem. 

But even as he hands it to me the clerk destroys my 
idea by astonishing me with this remark: “ It came 
from San Francisco two days ago.” 

So, turning the matter over, as my ’riksha-boy trots 
me down to Pedlar’s Wharf, I conclude I will tell the 
young lady everything, and let her be her own judge 
of the course she will take. 

Notwithstanding the heat, the Praya is crowded with 
business men, some of the fat and lazy ones going 
about in palanquins borne by the omnipresent coolie. 
Coolies are groaning under chests of opium, boxes of tea 
and bales of hemp, marking time as they strain under 
their burdens with that unceasing tongue-click, which 
rhythms the movements of their straining muscles. 
Sedan chairs are carried by coolies ; jinrikshas are 
rushed about by coolies — untiring coolies, who have 
no Sundays, no holidays, except when Chinese New 
Year’s comes, with its three days of exciting fire- 
crackers and intoxicating samshoo. Upon the water 
front, boats are being lowered from the davits of its 
granite sea-wall. At Pedlar’s Wharf, the general landing 
place for all comers except the P. & O. steamers, which 
have a dock further down the Praya, is a crowd of 
shore boats loaded with people who want to board the 
Pekin, which is just now dropping anchor in the 
stream. 

Elbowing my way into the perspiring crowd, I look 
about for a boatman. A moment after, as I leave the 
little wharf, I note Hong Kong looks rather pretty ; for 
the sharp hills that rise above its houses are, for a 
wonder, green. The villas along Kennedy Road with 
their tropic gardens seem cooler than they really are. 
A little touch of the southwest monsoon has just 
caught a corner of the harbor and gives it sea breeze. 


JACK CURZON. 


23 


The straits are full of shipping from every quarter of 
the world, among which are dodging steam launches, a 
fleet of sampans and numerous junks. Quite a crowd 
of these launches, sampans and row-boats are about 
the City of Pekm, whose black sides rise high above 
them. A throng of Chinese searchers after business, 
runners for hotels, solicitors for tailors, who’ll make 
you a suit of clothes and guarantee good fit for “sixie 
dollar,” or artists who’ll paint your portrait ora picture 
of your ship for a couple of taels, are trying to fight 
their way up the long side-ladder ; most of them 
Chinese bumboat women doing business for their lazy 
husbands, who lounge in their sampans. 

A few minutes after, forcing my way through these, 
I find myself upon the white deck of the big ocean 
liner. Under its ample awnings, being conducted by 
the first officer, who is an acquaintance of mine, 
through quite a group of lady passengers in gauzy 
summer dresses, and gentlemen in pith helmets, straw 
hats, and light flannels and white ducks, every mother’s 
son of them using a palm-leaf fan, I find myself pre- 
sented to a young lady in whose nersonality I have a 
great curiosity. 

I gaze astonished. 

From Bully Gordon’s description of his daughter, 
and Mazie’s remarks about her sister, I had expected 
a girl of agressive, smite-you-down, keep-your-dis- 
tance-sir, Diana-style of beauty. But looking into my 
face are a pair of appealing, take-me-to-your-heart, 
American eyes of the brightest sapphire. These, 
shaded by the longest of brown lashes, droop in pretty 
diffidence as I make my bow. The softest kind of a 
feminine voice, the very timbre of which would mean 
passion if the two coral chiseled lips were speaking to 
a lover, say to me words of greeting, languidly but 
1 very pleasantly : “Ah, so glad. 1 expected you, dear 
Mr. Curzon. Papa wrote me you would take charge 
■ of me here. I am delighted you have come so prompt- 
ly. You know,” she adds, with a little suggestive, 
feminine, put-myself-in-your-hands kind of quiver, "‘a 
I girl like me feels so alone in a strange land. Besides 
coolies are sometimes a little saucy when there is no 
gentleman to direct them. I was getting quite nervous, 
but at sight of you. I’m — I’m rather brave again. 


24 


JACK CURZON. 


Thank you SO much.” She extends cordially an ex- 
quisitely gloved and extremely graceful hand as I gaze 
at her astounded. 

As to beauty, Senorita Maud practically exceeds her 
father’s description. The Venus figurehead is there, made 
alluring by Hebe eyes. The prettily rounded bows look 
as if they might run down any man who had a heart in 
his bosom. The white shoulders and snowy arms as 
they gleam beneath the white muslin of her tropic gown, 
apparently made in the very best French fashion by a 
first class New York modiste, Sbem whiter than the 
whitest cocoanut kernel or vegetable ivory. I note 
the lithe figure of a Tahetian girl who plays all day in 
the surf. Following the curving beauties of her grace- 
ful pose, I catch sight of a charming little slipper and 
know she has a Spanish foot. But is this the Boadicea 
who’ll head a boarding-party, fight on the quarter-deck, 
and down the Captain-General and Supreme Court of 
Manila, in her struggle for herself and her sister’s rights ? 

I fairly chuckle to myself as I think what a wondrous 
mistake the doting admiration of her father and her 
sister has made in this girl's character, whom they con- 
sider their family Joan of Arc. 

^‘Oh, yes, she’d thump the life out of Ata Tonga the 
savage Tagal, wouldn’t she?” I grin to myself ; then 
almost sigh as I reflect that even Mazie herself with 
her pretty little Filipina manners would do better i 
fighting for her fortune than this beautiful creation 
of Paris fashions and feminine airs, graces, and 
nerves. 

Even as I think this, the girl has turned to a Chinese 
steward, and called, a trembling eagerness in her . 
voice : “Quick, Wong ! Please see if any telegrams 
have come on board for me. ” 

“Yes, missie,” answers the Chinese boy. “ If ’em 
ain’t come on board, me glowey after ’em ! ” and he 
gives her a look of most respectful adoration as he 
salams before her. 

“That boy seems anxious to do your bidding,” I 
remark. 

“ Oh, yes, <2// gentlemen do, I think,” says Miss Maud 1 
archly, and favors me with the first Filipina movement 
I have seen in her, for she looks at me over her fan in a 
way that reminds me of my own dear Mazie. 


JACK CURZON. 


2S 

“ You needn^t send the boy for your telegram. I 
thought of you when on shore,” I whisper. “ Is this 
what you want ? ” and produce the cable from San 
Francisco. 

^^Diosmior' cries the girl, “Thank you; thank 
you, Mr. Curzon!” And she tears open the enve- 
lope. 

A moment later I get my first true idea of the mind 
and heart of Maud Ysabel Gordon. As she reads the 
short message her eyes blaze up into a kind of violet 
with Spanish fire. With impulsive movement she 
kisses the handwriting of the telegraph clerk, and with 
a deft use of fair fingers the blue envelope and its con- 
tents plunge beneath laces and gauzes to take resting 
place on as pretty a spot as ever gave sanctuary to a 
lover’s missive. 

“You — you must excuse me, Mr. Curzon,” she 
langhs, “ I hadn’t heard from Phil for twenty-five days. 
You — you know — Mazie must have told you. He is 
my — no, I hadn’t yet written that to them.” And 
blush after blush fly over her exquisite features. A mo- 
ment later she adds : “I have told you so much — listen 
to the rest of it. Of course, as my sister’s fiance, I feel 
you are brother-in-law to me now. Jack. This telegram 
is from — ” here her voice becomes strident with hope, 
“from Filipo — I mean Phil Marston, my sailor be- 
trothed. He is an Ensign in the United States Navy. 
He cables me that he is ordered to join the Petrel on 
this station. Ah, but I knew that must come. I went 
to see the Secretary of the Navy myself. I told him : 

Americano y here is a poor naturalized Yankee 
girl, who is going to become body and soul a Yankee 
by marrying one of your bravest cadets, he who 
plunged overboard at Norfolk and saved two drowning 
men.’ My Phil bears a medal on his breast for that ; 
that is, he would if he weren’t so modest. He has it 
locked up in his kit I believe, though once for two 
kisses, he showed it to me. I said : ‘ Shall this young 
man, Mr. Secretary, who is going to make me a true 
Americana, be compelled to spend all his meager salary 
in cables at two dollars and fifty cents a word. Put 
him in the China squadron.’ 

“Perhaps someday his ship may fly her flag in the 
Philippines, then it will not be even cables from Hong 


26 


JACK CURZON. 


Kong, but kisses in Manila.” Here she blushes and 
laughs : “Oh, what must you think of me, Mr. Curzon ? 
But I forgot myself ; in the joy of knowing mi cahallero 
is ordered here. That the same typhoon that blows the 
houses down in Manila will blow my kisses to him as 
his vessel fights the storm in the Yellow Sea. Then 
she takes my arm, looks into my face and whispers : 
“Am I as loving to my sweetheart as Mazie is to you, 
you great big Englishman .? ” Next looking at a young 
English lady, who is gazing astounded at her peculiar 
vivacious performance with me, she says: “Mrs. 
Royston, let me present Senor Jack Curzon to the lady 
who has so kindly chaperoned this voyage.” 

As I shake hands with a charming young matron who 
is coming out to join her husband Burton Royston of the 
P. &0. steamers. Miss Vivacious runs on : “This is 
not my lover. He is only my sister’s fiance. Had 
he been my own sailor boy, I would have given him 
a hundred kisses right in your face. Santa Maria ! I 
am not afraid to show I adore a man, when I do.” 

“Oh, no, Maud,” laughs her chaperone, I knew this 
was not your fiancd. Everyone on the boat is very 
sure that young naval officer who bid you good-bye 
when the of Pekin \eii San Francisco, has your 
whole heart in his pocket.” 

“ Santos ! I am glad there is no doubt about him !” 
returns Maud. Then she whispers to me ; ‘ ‘ Phil is such 
an impulsive fellow and so — so jealous of me. He 
says I do too much work with my eyes and fan. Dios 
mio, the darling boy wanted to marry me before I left 
San Francisco, but I — I did not dare ! ” Her face, that 
is blushing, suddenly grows troubled, perchance at 
thought of the man she loves. A moment after, she 
says lightly : “Jack, isn’t it about time to get me trans- 
ferred? We must bid Mrs. Royston good-bye. I be- 
lieve the Esmeralda leaves to-day. ” 

“Yes, I am awfully sorry. You have only three or 
four hours in this port. I would have liked to have 
done the honors of the place to my dear sister, ” I an- 
swer, for the girl’s manner has magnetized me. 

With this, Maud makes her adieu to the lady who has 
put her oegis over her for the voyage and I escort her 
to the gangway finding she has magnetized every man- 
jack on the ship, passengers, officers and even 


JACK CURZON. 2/ 

waiters and stewards. All have a farewell for her that 
shows she is the pet and pride of the Pekin. 

At the gangway I am compelled to pause to get an- 
other view of my charge’s character. Boston, one 

of the new warships the United States has sent to the 
China station, is at anchor a mile or two down the roads. 
From her comes dashing a steam launch. Three or 
four athletic young fellows in naval uniform spring up 
the side-ladder, and I discover Senorita Maud Ysabel 
has captured the United States Navy. 

The youngest officer, who is a little in advance of 
his companions, takes off his hat, and says : “Miss 
Gordon, don’t you remember me ; Charley Phelps? I 
danced with you at Annapolis two years ago.” 

“ Why Phil’s chum at the Academy ! ” cries the girl, 
enthusiastically. 

“Yes, I had a letter from Marston telling me to look 
out for you, so I and some of my messmates came to 
see that everything was very right with you in Hong 
Kong. We would have been here before, but couldn’t 
get leave as it was general inspection. Let me present 
Mr. Hawthorne.” 

“Ah ! George Hawthorne, navigator of the Boston. 
I have a letter of introduction to you,” says Maud, 
“ from your wife. I met Alice in Annapolis. She was 
with Mrs. Captain Burnham.” 

“Thank you very much” says the officer, and seizes 
the note that Miss Gordon produces ; then mutters 
“Alice is well, and the baby?” 

“Oh, Farragut was looking grandly. He gave me 
two kisses for you.” 

“ Quite right ; where are they ? ” And the dashing 
lieutenant-commander strokes his mustache in an anti- 
cipatory manner, and looks very roguishly at the beau- 
tiful face that is so near to his. 

“You will find them enclosed in the letter!” says 
Senorita Maud with the cutest kind of Yankee 
smile. 

While his companions burst out laughing, Mr. Phelps 
presents Messrs. Boardman and Saville, remarking : 

Two of the wardroom mess.” 

Greeting them very affably. Miss Gordon introduces 
me, remarking : “My future brother-in-law, Jack Cur- 
zon of Hong Kong.” 


2S 


JACK CURZON. 


You have a sister ? Any more like you in Manila ?" 
asks Saville eagerly. 

“ Yes, but Jack’s got her.” 

Then the conversation goes into naval news, and I 
find my charge is heart and soul a naval girl. She tells 
his brother officers of her fiance being ordered to the 
Petrel, and remarks : “ Mr. Chadwick of the Monocacy 
on this station also is, I believe, now a lieutenant- 
commander. Will that give any of you a step.?” 

“No,” they all answer, and one of them mutters ; 
“Promotion ! Barring war, twenty years from now I 
may be still a lieutenant,” then asks in serious tones : 
“ How about the Dons in Cuba ? ” 

“Oh, I believe there is a rebellion or revolution 
there or something of the kind,” replies the girl, and 
they all go into an Annapolis gossip as she tells them 
how Mrs. Rear-Admiral Dawson snubbed Mrs. Com- 
modore Brown, and that Miss Sally Jenkins was the 
belle of the last graduation hop. 

But after a minute or two of this, Maud suddenly 
says : “Jack, isn’t it about time we were moving ? I 
am awfully sorry to leave you gentlemen, but the 
Esmeralda sails to-day.” 

“Yes; I have only time to get you properly 
shipped,” I say, taking her hint. 

And the naval gentlemen, taking her suggestion also, 
make their adieux, wdth many proffers of service to their 
chum’s sweetheart in this far distant land ; one of 
them, Phelps, remarking rather laughingly : “Perhaps 
we may all be down in Manila to see you some fine 
day. ” 

A few moments after, having made arrangements 
for the transfer of her baggage, I hand my charge 
down the side-ladder, where she gives as pretty an 
exhibition of feminine timidity, little feet and graceful 
ankles as any lady who has ever descended from the 
high sides of the Pekin. 


JACK CURZON. 


29 


CHAPTER III. 

“this message to my sailor boy I ” 

In the boat Maud whispers to me, a new tone in her 
voice: “You understand why I broke off that con- 
versation ? Though the chat of the brother officers of 
my sweetheart is like breezes blowing to me from his 
country, I have a much more serious matter to discuss 
with you.” 

“About your sister and father ? ” I whisper. 

“Yes; of the utmost secrecy.” 

“Very well,” I say. “Supposing I give you a drive 
up the Kennedy Road. There is no place so con- 
venient for a t^te-a-tete between a young lady and gen- 
tleman as a carriage.” 

Ashore, I engage, with some little difficulty, a 
barouche, and we drive away to the Kennedy Road 
in search of stray breezes, and finally succeed in find- 
ing a few. 

During this, Senorita Maud Ysabel Gordon gives me 
three or four flashes of her character that make me sit 
aghast. 

“ Papa wrote me that you knew why he sent me to 
be educated in great America,” she whispers. 

“Yes,” I answer. “ You have fulfilled his instruc- 
tions ? ” 

“To the letter; with the assistance of papa's 
maiden sister, Miss Prudence Kimble Gordon who 
lives in Boston, and was delighted to welcome the 
daughter of her brother who had run away to sea on a 
whaler. Though I had more difficulty in the citizenship 
business than I had imagined. I had to take up a 
residence in Kansas where they allow women to vote. 
Even then the Federal judge hesitated about natural- 
izing me, as I was advised, considering the use I 
wanted to make of them, it was best to receive my 
papers from a United States Court. 

“But with my application seconded by a great 
woman, who is mayor of a town out there, I was made 
a Yankee 1 ” laughs the girl. ‘ ‘ When the woman mayor. 


30 


JACK CURZON. 


who is also a lawyer, demanded in open court : ' Dare 
you deny the rights of citizenship to this female who 
comes from the far away East to claim a citizenship 
her effete and unpatriotic father trampled in the dust ? ' 
the judge dropped his colors. I have here,’' Maud 
puts her hand to her breast, “carefully secured, my 
papers of citizenship that show I am a Yankee girl.” 
Her eyes blaze proudly with New England fire. “To 
clinch my political status, I have even voted in the 
town of Topeka, Kansas, and have a record of it 
certified by the election officers. Don’t doubt me. I’ll 
put it under the eyes of the captain-general ; I'll flaunt 
it in the faces of the Supreme Court of Manila, and the 
thieving Correg'tdor of NuevaEcija.. Though, of course, 

I must tremble and be very bashful and maidenly 
nervous in the presence of these august individuals— 
until the proper time comes.” 

But your father thought to educate you for a fighter 
when he sent you to America. Something like the 
woman mayor of whom you spoke,” I laugh. 

Dios ! yes ; Padre thinks everything must be done 
with rope’s-end and marlinspike, as on the deck of his 
old vessel. Do you know, he ordered me to take boxing 
lessons and practise for the football team. But Dad 
doesn’t know a girl’s strongest grip ; not by a jugfull,” 
prates Maud. “So instead of going to Vassar, D 
took instruction at Miss Browne’s most fashionable 
academy on Fifth Avenue, where they teach the graces 
of Cleopatra, not the muscular contentions of Hercules, 
for I have learned that my sex has a weapon that 
nearly always wins,” she adds, looking wise as Sibyl. 

“What’s that ?” I ask. 

Santa Maria, love! A woman can conquer any 
man who adores her. Cleopatra downed Anthony, 
who worshiped her. She couldn’t thrash Augustus, 
who didn’t.” 

“My God! you mean to play the Cleopatra of the 
islands ? ” I whisper, dismay in my tones. 

“Not in the wicked way your horror suggests,” 
laughs the young lady airily. ‘ ‘ Madre mia what an in- 
sinuation upon Miss Browne’s boarding school. Though 
it wouldn’t surprise me,” she adds contemplatively, “if 
I had a petite flirtation with El Corregidor who is 
eighty.” 


JACK CURZON. 


31 


“What will Phil say to that ? ” 

“What will Phil say?'' The girl grows pale here. 
“Phil will sit down on me," she says in Yankee slang. 
“But he need have no reason to sit down on me, for 
no one is loved as Phil is loved." 

“And how about old Adolph Max Ludenbaum, 
who used to dawdle you on his knees, and favored 
you with more dukes than he did Mazie ? " I laugh ; 
then choke astounded at the effect of the German’s 
name upon this girl, whom I supposed feared nothing. 

The delicate face I am looking into grows sickly 
pale ; the lovely form quivers till I can hear the rustling 
of the laces upon her soft skirts and jupe ; and spasms 
of apprehension, remorse, fear, hate and loathing 
chase one another over the beautiful yet pallid 
features. Maud clenches her gloved fist, and mutters : 
“That hoary-headed Dutch plotter ! that creature who 
by his arts has been my despair, my dis — " She cuts 
off the rest of this word by biting her lip till the blood 
comes ; then suddenly asks me as I gaze astounded, a 
tremor of dismay in her voice : “ Has Mazie told you 
of my childish flirtation," she tries to laugh, “with 
Dutchy, eh?” 

“Mazie told me only of Ludenbaum’s kindness to 
you when you were a little girl ; his friendship for 
your father. " 

“Friendship! Caramba, had I taken Ata Tonga's 
warning, who always said he smelled the venom in 
him, I — oh, what nonsense. Why should childish 
prejudice take me so far in talking about poor old 
Dutchy ? " she utters in a miserable attempt at levity. 
“ Pooh, nonsense? Tell me about everything in the 
islands. From some of your remarks, I am afraid 
there is a chance of an outbreak there. Only please 
don’t mention Herr Ludenbaum’s name to me again 
Jack." 

‘ ‘ All right, " I assent. 

But this giving me an opening, I tell Miss Gordon 
all about her father’s charge to me. Then, showing 
her the curious communication I have received this 
very day, I ask her whether she thinks she had not 
better remain in Hong Kong until further news comes 
from the islands. 

She examines the document earnestly and on seeing 


32 


JACK CURZON. 


the writing", I think gives a slight start ; but almost 
immediately answers me, decision in her tones : 
**No ! If trouble is imminent, I must be there.” 

“Why.?” 

“ Because my father and sister will need me.” Here 
her look astounds me. Her blue eyes blaze in 
undaunted resolution; her face has grown from the 
countenance of a frightened girl to that of a Boadicea 
and Cleopatra combined. As I gaze on her, I know 
Gordon has not mistaken the courage of his daughter. 

“You see,” she goes on, “Papa is afoul weather 
sea-captain. He fights everything in sight. He'll 
throw himself against the cunning Spanish officials, 
and be worsted. Then perchance he'll dash himself 
against their cruel Spanish bayonets and be — ” she 
gives a shiver, “but I’ll — I’ll keep foolish dad from 
that, please God ! ” she adds firmly. 

‘ ‘ Then you insist upon going to Manila imme- 
diately ? ” 

“Instantly ! My cabins are already engaged, I un- 
derstand. You must take me to the Esmeralda at 
once. You are to place me under the care of the 
captain, I believe, as you are unacquainted with any 
lady passenger, though I'll doubtless meet some 
senora who knows my family on any Manila steam- 
boat.” Then looking at her watch, she cries: “I 
dare not miss that boat ; I will not miss that boat ! 
Tell the man to drive back immediately ! ” 

This I do, while Maud, a change coming over her 
demeanor, whispers archly : “Any pretty little love 
messages for Mazie .?” adding confidentially: “I like 
you ; I am glad my sister loves you ; but if you don’t 
make her a good husband ” 

She looks at me, and I say faltering: “Yes, I’ll 
never stay out late at the club.” 

“ See that you don’t ! she commands, and her eyes 
flash with a sister-in-law’s Spanish fire. 

A quarter of an hour after we are at the Praya. 

At Pedlar’s Wharf, there is the usual boats, dis- 
charging and embarking passengers, quite a number 
of the latter being bound for the Esmeralda. About 
the landing there is the usual conglomerate of a Hong 
Kong crowd, Chinese loiterers from some of the neigh- 
boring hongs, a few Europeans saying adieux to 


JACK CURZON. 


33 


white-suited friends, en route for Manila, Cebu and 
Iloilo, runners after business, 'rikshas for hire, sedan 
chairs with coolie attachments, all this leavened by 
quite a number of Spaniards who are bidding adios 
to compatriots who are journeying Filipino-wards, 
likewise a number of Chinese merchants en route for 
the same place, the retail trade of these islands being 
chiefly in their Celestial hands. 

As I conduct Senorita Gordon through them, ap- 
parently carried away by Eastern surroundings, she 
cries : “Home again !” and begins to prattle to me 
in that melange of Tagalog and Spanish peculiar to 
the Filipinos, her sweet voice making the dialect un- 
usually musical. 

Catching her soft accents, a man who is standing in 
the crowd suddenly looks interested. In appearance 
he is different to most of his surroundings. Though 
dressed as a European, he has the features of a savage ; 
the high cheek bones and the dark round eyes peculiar 
to the inhabitants of the Malay Archipelago ; a nose 
that would be aquiline in outline were it not for the 
nostrils distended to such an extent that they make 
lines in his face running even to his eyes. 

For a moment this person casts his glance upon the 
beautiful young lady by my side, who, dressed in 
New York fashion, seems so entirely European and 
apart from the East, being in mighty contrast to 
Spanish dames, some of whom, this hot day, wear the 
light lace mantillas draped over their heads, and Mes- 
tiza ladies whose flowing white skirts and panuelos 
of delicate pina, tell they are of the Philippines. As 
this man notes the dialect of my fashionable charge, 
he seems for one instant astonished and surprised. 
Then suddenly his nostrils seem to draw in the air 
about him, even as a pointer dog does when scenting 
partridges ; over the features of savage sternness flies 
a smile that makes his sallow face blaze like the sun 
above him. His clean-cut lips open, showing teeth 
which are stained by the betel-nut. 

I have left Maud and am hanging over the water 
engaging a boat. As I do so, I note this Eastern 
individual clothed in the duck suit of a traveling 
Englishman make hasty steps towards my charge, who 
has daintily drawn up her white skirts to keep them 
3 


34 jack curzon. 

from the motley crowd and the rising dust of a Hong 
Kong mob. 

A moment later, the man apparently changes his 
mind, and if he had any intention of addressing Miss 
Gordon, relinquishes it, withdrawing behind a crowd 
of jabbering riksha-men. 

Then I return to my charge, and she permits me to 
lead her down the steps to the boat, into which 
Senorita Maud puts her pretty little feet with all the 
dainty affectations of a lady of European fashion. 

As we glide towards the Esmeralda, she prattles to 
me very much as any young lady of the Western 
world would do, assuming what I think may be an 
affected frivolity, and telling me of the presents she 
has brought for her father and her sister. I’ve some 
stunning toilets for Mazie,” she remarks. “In them 
she will turn your head, Mr. Jack Romeo.” 

“ She has already done that,” I laugh ; then thoughts 
of Mazie coming to me, I murmur : “ How I wish I 
were going to Manila too.’^ 

“You won’t belong behind me, I hope,” says the girl 
earnestly. “ You let me tell Mazie it will not be long.” 

“No ; not over two months.” 

“ Ah, and then, the^ wedding ! Of course, Fll be 
^azie’s bridesmaid!” cries Miss Maud, clapping her little 
gloved hands ecstatically. Then she gives me a rap- 
ture, by murmuring: “Between ourselves, Jackey, 
Tve got the bride’s dress in my trunk ; all white satin 
and fluffy laces. Oh, Jack, Mazie’ll look lovely in it ! 
Though I expect the custom-house officials in Manila 
will ruin me to get it through their paws. But here 
we are at the Esmeralda. Help me up the side-ladder, 
mi Caballero, and introduce me to Captain Tayler.’^ 

A moment later upon the steamer’s deck, I place 
my charming charge under that genial officer’s protec- 
tion, who, looking upon the beauty that is entrusted to 
his hands, remarks : “ Believe me, I appreciate the 
responsibility ; though I presume, Senorita Gordon, 
you will find a few lady Filipina friends on board.” 

Sanlos, yes! I have already seen one,” laughs 
Maud, “ though Senora Montanez doesn’t recognize me 
m my robe de Paris.” Then turning to me, she mur- 
murs: “ Won’t you find my stateroom for me? You 
engaged it, Jack.” 


JACK CURZON. 


35 


Two minutes after we inspect the cabin that will 
be the bower of this beauty for three days until her 
ship runs past the Island of Corregidor into Manila 
Bay. 

Looking into this stateroom, Maud clasps her hands, 
and in Spanish manner screams : ''Dios mio, what a 
lovely husband you will make. Jack ! Gracias f 
graciasl My stateroom is filled with flowers galore, 
and Tve fruit enough for half a dozen voyages, and 
here is a huge box of cigarettes — from you also } " she 
says, holding the article to me. " Diantre ! you knew 
I was a Filipina with Filipina tastes.” 

“ Do you smoke now,” I laugh, “after four years in 
America ? ” 

“I would! I adore it; but Phil doesn’t like it in 
a young lady ; he says he’ll do the smoking for the 
family. So therefore, never again I ” cries the girl ; 
then laughs: “So you didn’t send the cigarettes. 
Jack ? ” 

“Not a cigar rillo.^' 

" Haven’t they a most alluring, smoke-me-quick 
odor } Santissima, what temptation they will be — to 
a Filipina so recently converted to Yankee propriety,” 
she prattles lightly, “I’m afraid I’ll have to indulge 
in a whiff or two sub rosa. Ata Tonga, my Tagal 
boy, would hardly believe his nose without I had a 
cigarette between my teeth.’’ To this, she adds medi- 
tatively : “I suppose I must thank my naval friends 
for them.” 

A moment after, this creature of emotion suddenly 
cries: " Madre dolorosa! If they dare write to Phil 
that I smoke them I ” and bites her lips nervously as 
the lilies of her cheeks turn into roses. With this she 
whispers, producing a little paper quite bashfully : 
‘ ‘ Send this telegram please, as soon as you touch the 
shore,” handing it to me together with a twenty- 
pound note of the Bank of Hong Kong. 

The despatch is addressed to: “Philip Preble 
Marston, Ensign, United States Navy, Mare Island, 
California.” 

‘ ‘ What’s all this money for .? ” I ask. “ Five pounds 
will pay for a cablegram.” 

“Not for this one,” laughs Maud; then goes on 
in vivacious intensity : “ Do you think I'd insult 


JACK CURZON. 


36 

my Phil with less than forty words. I’d send a hun- 
dred if I thought the Padre wouldn’t kick at the bill. 
And now,” she looks at me coquettishly, my dear 
brother, I’ll take a kiss, if you like, to give it to Mazie. 
You have done everything for me possible.” She 
waves her hands about the apartment ; then growing 
a little bashful, looks archly at me, and murmurs : 
“ Phil won’t be jealous if I take just one kiss to Mazie 
for you.” With this she puts up her lips as sweet as her 
sister's, to which I give a brother’s greeting. 

Santa Maria, you're a villain. Jack ! ” she laughs. 
“You gave me twoP 

“Yes — the last one was for yourself,” I remark. 

A second after I carelessly suggest: “I presume 
the jealous Phil knows he is to marry a citizeness, in 
her own right, of the United States.’’ 

Dios mio, no! I had already voted,” cries the 
girl with a blush, “when I permitted him the hope 
that I might wed him. I — I feared Phil, who is such a 
masterful fellow and who hates what he calls the new 
woman, would not approve of it. My duty to my 
father and sister compelled me to it, or I would have 
torn up my papers. But still I did not have the heart 
to tell him his future bride had voted. He might think 
it unfeminine. It is my one secret from my sweet- 
heart, ’’ she mutters and seems ashamed. Then as if 
trying to drive this from her mind. Miss Vivacious 
utters a little plaintive feminine scream of dismay : 

Santos t They have made an awful mistake. Run 
Jack, quick, and find the purser for me like a good 
fellow! Tell him to have the white canvas-covered 
valise, marked ‘ M. Y. G.’ sent to my cabin. If they 
get it in the hold I may never see it till we reach 
Manila, and — Omadremia! I shall be a young lady 
without fresh dresses for three days ; and there may 
be Caballeros on board. One or two handsome ones, I 
think I saw. Hurry, Jack !” 

Thus adjured, I spring up the companion-way in 
pursuit of the purser, and in little time find him to be a 
most obliging one. Together we pick out the precious 
and all important white valise, which is a Saratoga 
trunk at which the ship’s officer looks glumly, and 
says : “1 wonder if it will go through the door of her 
stateroom. ” 


JACK CURZON. 37 

This takes a few moments, and I hurry to reassure the 
young-lady-in-search-of-her-dresses. 

As I reach the companionway, a man brushes past 
me hurriedly, and passes along the deck to take a shore 
boat. Glancing after him carelessly, I notice it is the 
gentleman of Eastern appearance and English dress, 
who had seemed in the crowd at Pedlar’s Wharf to be 
so impressed with Maud’s Filipina dialect and Euro- 
pean appearance. 

I gaze after him languidly and would perhaps take 
little note of him, did not at this moment, Maud step to 
me from her cabin, an awful transformation in her foce 
and bearing. She is no longer a being of graceful 
levity and feminine, fine lady airs. Her cheeks are 
pale as death. A strange intensity and wondrous 
anxiety is in her eyes, though these are as brave as 
Boadicea’s when she marched to endure the Roman 
lictors’ rods. Once or twice her noble features twitch 
with a kind of latent despair. I gaze at her astonished. 
Apparently some new emotion, niore potent than any 
I have seen in her, is in her soul. 

I note her eyes are blazing with a peculiar yet noble 
fire ; then mutter to her with sudden inspiration : 
“What has that man said to you? ” 

“ What man ? ” she gasps. 

“The man just passing over the ship’s side! The 
dark-eyed fellow with the great nose 1 ” 

“ Santissima, you noticed it 1 ” she mutters ; then 
suddenly asks : “Did — did anyone else ? ” 

“ I hardly think so.” 

* ‘ Dios mio, you — you are sure ? ” 

“Certainly I ” 

“ A-a-ah 1 This is a sigh of relief. 

“ What did that man tell you ? ” 

“So much,” answers the girl, a strange determina- 
tion, yet peculiar calmness seeming to come into her 
voice, “that for your own sake and safety, I shall 
never tell you.” 

“Then this knowledge means danger to you?” I 
whisper anxiously. 

“ That must be my own risk I ” 

As she says this, the cry comes up “All ashore !” 

It seems to strike her down. Her face grows ashen, 
her eyes affrighted, not for herself, I guess, but for the 


JACK CUR20N. 


38 

man she loves ; faltering womanhood apparently 
arises up and tor one moment dominates the brave 
girl. 

Looking round at the numerous Spaniards on the 
deck, emblematic of the Filipinos, she shudders: "‘I 
seem to be leaving my love behind me. The sound of 
that rising anchor is cutting me off from him ! ” Her 
lovely eyes till with tears, and she commences to wring 
her hands and falter : “ Philip — my Philip ! 1 — I should 
have never — never promised myself to him. I should 
never have ^iven the hope of happiness to my sailor 
boy. I — what has come to me to-day has brought back 
to me something I had almost forgotten. Suddenly 
the clean-cut coral lips whimper : ^‘If I should never 
see him again^ you — you will tell Phil that the last beat 
of my heart wj*s for him. You will ask my dear boy 
to forgive me for having made him love me ? " An 
exquisite pathos is in her liquid voice, a kind of dazed 
despair seems to fly in ripples of agony over her mobile 
face. 

“Feeling like that, you shall not go ! " I whisper. 

“I must ! What has come to me to-day makes it 
imperative. You do not know ! " Suddenly she mut- 
ters : “ Forget what 1 have said, except the message 

to my sailor boy in case — in case you never see me 
more." Her soft voice has grown strangely hoarse. 

“Ah, you fear ? " 

“I fear nothing! But you do not know my danger 
and I do." And the exquisite beauty of her counten- 
ance seems to be made ethereal by some premonition 
of disaster which brings a new loveliness into her pas- 
sionate eyes. 

“You shall not go ! " I whisper determinedly. 

“Quick! The side ladder is being raised. You 
have little time 1 " she cries, and flies with light feet to 
the other side of the deck, where she is cut off from me 
by the crush of passengers. 

I would pursue her, but the shout is “All ashore for 
the last time I " 

If I am to go, I must do it now. 

With a terrible anxiety in my heart, I beckon to her, 
but Maud waves me off, crying from a distance : 
“ Captain Tayler says you must leave the ship at once. 
Jack 1 " 


JACK CURZON. 


39 


Then as I reluctantly descend the vessel’s side, Maud 
comes to the rail, and looking over calls airily : 

Adios, mi Caballero I Til tell Mazie what a good boy 
you were to me,” and waves adieu with fluttering 
handkerchief. 

Looking at her ethereal loveliness, in which there 
seems to me now a desperate kind of levity, for she is 
laughing till the tears roll down her cheeks at a Chinese 
dandy in a shore boat which has come up too late, I 
think: “Had I not been in love with Mazie Inez, 
Maud Ysabel is pretty enough, coquettish enough, 
charming enough and brave enough to have conquered 
me.” 

Then as my boat pulls away, and the great pro- 
peller of the Esmeralda begins to churn the water, the 
half despair in her elder sister’s eyes makes me shudder 
as I think of my own dear girl in that troubled land to 
which Senorita Gordon goes so undauntedly to con- 
front the Spanish rule, which is and has been always 
cruel and bloodthirsty, from the old Roman days when 
Hamilcar taught Punica fides to the Iberian, to these 
modern times of Valmaceda and Weyler, with medie- 
val Alva, Pedro the Cruel and Jay me the Butcher thrown 
in. 


CHAPTER IV. 

“BROTHERS, I SMELL A STRANGER!” 

These ideas throw me into gloomy meditation over 
what the man with Eastern face and English dress 
had said to Senorita Gordon. Maud would never have 
looked as she did unless she guessed something damn- 
able was going to happen in the Philippines. Then 
like a flash comes into my mind that mysterious 
Chinese warning. 

I am aroused from my feverish meditations by my 
boat jostling with another steam launch, which is ap- 
parently returning from the departing steamer. 

“ By Josh, Curzon, your boys are jim-dandies for 
steering I ” comes to me from the other craft ; then 
follow imprecations upon the coolie boatmen inunmis- 
takeable fluent heathen Mongolian jabber, the like of 


40 


JACK CURZON. 


which no European can imitate, no missionary get the 
twist of, study how he will the Chinese classics. 

Looking at the other boat, I call : ' ‘ Hello, Khy ! and 
gaze on the greatest Chinese dandy in Hong Kong, a 
young man of the brightest, slit. Oriental eyes, the 
most decided Mongolian features and the costume of 
a Fifth Avenue swell, with one or two Radcliff High- 
way and some Oriental embellishments thrown in. 
He is smoking languidly as he reclines under an awn- 
ing in the stern sheets, and is Mr. Ah Khy, commonly 
known in Hong Kong as “Young China.” In his 
desire to exhibit European fashion, he sports a Prince 
Albert coat, white vest, lavender trousers, white gaiters, 
patent-leather boots, red necktie and big watch-chain; 
crowning his adornment with a high stove-pipe hat 
even on this burning, sultry, roasting sizzling day. 

“By Jupiter, Khy, you are elaborately arrayed !” I 
remark. 

“You bet. Pm got up to beat the band ! I was rush- 
ing it ! ” he answers in easy American slang. “ I was 
going to make a call on a bang-up gal on the Esmeralda. 

I wanted her to know, by Josh, that if she was hazed 
at Vassar College I was put through at Yale. Her dad, 
old Gordon of the Philippines, has been getting his 
daughter educated modern, as my governor has had 
me.” Here Mr. Khy bursts into voluble Chinese 
invective at the two boatmen, adding in English : 
“You dirty landlubbers, do you want to run my 
friend Curzon down } ” Then he suggests in a horrible 
Western familiarity he has picked up in the United 
States. “Come into my boat, Jackey, Eve got the 
primest bottle of cocktails, with me, and hang it, the way 
your lubbers are steering, if we linger together, one of 
us is sure to be swamped.” 

Accepting his invitation, I jump into his boat, and 
seat myself beside the son of probably the richest 
Chinaman in Victoria, not even excepting Hing Kee 
the compradore who owns the Hong Kong Hotel and 
English Club House. A moment later I order my 
men to get out of the way and give us sea room and 
turning to Mr. Khy ask eagerly : “You know Senorita 
Gordon ? ” 

“Know Maudie.? Well I should ejaculate! My 
father was the head of the Manila branch of Hen Chick 


JACK CURZON. 


41 


& Co. when I was a kid, and shipped or smuggled most 
of Gordon’s tobacco. I really think that my father’s 
sending me to Yale, for my old gentleman is a pro- 
gressive old Philistine, and guessed that if 1 was to 
stand up against the outside barbarians he’d have to 
make an outside barbarian of me, gave old Bully 
Gordon a hint of trotting his daughter after me a few 
years later. You’ve been doing the polite to her I 
imagine from a distant squint of the ship’s deck. You 
had better luck than me. I slept too long after poker 
last night and the Esmeralda got under way before I 
could get on board. You are engaged to Maudie’s 
sister, ain’t you?” he asks, with imported Yankee 
curiosity. 

To my answering nod, Khy remarks: “Thought 
so ! ” then asks rather eagerly : “ Did you notice 

whether Maud had got a box of cigarettes ? ” 

“Certainly ; Miss Gordon had them in her cabin.” 

“ Ah ; then probably the governor will forgive my 
missing her,” says the young fellow languidly as he 
offers me a cocktail, which by the mercy of God I re- 
fuse. 

“I suppose Maudie is a howling beauty by this 
time,” he babbles on, “As a kid she bid fair to beat 
anything in the push. I hope she’s a success. My 
governor thinks that I’m a failure. He educated me 
Western so I could beat the Japs, Dutch and Yanks 
at trading, but hang it, it’s only made me a fish out of 
water. Chopsticks and rice don’t come natural to me,” 
he says with a shudder. “By the bye. I’ve imported 
from San Francisco a Chinese-American cook who 
makes me think of Delmonico’s. Will you come up 
and dine with me some day? I’m so damn lonely for 
English and European society,” mutters the poor 
fellow dolefully. 

While the Chinese-American has been chatting, I 
have been turning over in my mind the curious warn- 
ing about Manila, and having concluded that Khy is 
about the best man in all Hong Kong to investigate 
my Mongolian puzzle, have been devoting my thoughts 
to enlisting him in the affair. 

Suddenly an idea of the proper bribe flies into my 
brain. I suggest : “Khy, old fellow, how would you 
like me to assist you into English society ? ” 


42 


JACK CURZON. 


A spasm of Asiatic joy flies into the nondescript’s 
face, “Holy Poker!” he cries, gripping my hand, 
“You’ll do that for me, will you, Curzon ? Great 
Scott, put me up at the English Club, won’t you. 
You’re one of the Governors, ain’t you ? ” 

I give a shudder. 

“You can do it,” he cries, “My father has a 
thundering big I. O. U. of Johnson’s and another 
equally as expansive of Richards’, and Johnny Pell of 
the P. & O. office owes me a thundering lot on the last 
Spring races, which he hasn’t settled. They dassent go 
back on me. You can shove me in.” 

“ Perhaps,” I answer ; knowing I am telling a lie as 
atrocious as Ananias’ best. 

“If you can do it. I’m your friend for life ! ” babbles 
the Celestial dandy. “Cracky! Wouldn’t my gov- 
ernor feel proud if he saw me looking out of the windows 
of a place which he couldn’t put his nose into. By 
the bye, will you have a stinker.?” And Khy ef- 
fusively passes me one of the finest cigars I have 
ever put 'my hands upon. This, providentially, I 
put in my pocket, reserving it for an after dinner bon 
bouche. 

“ Will you help me in this?” I ask suddenly, and 
put before his eyes the paper I have received bearing 
the words about Manila. 

To my astonishment it seems to effect Khy much 
more than I had expected. He gazes at the writing 
and mutters : “ Holy Moses ! ” then hands the paper 
back to me muttering: “I — I don’t want to have 
anything to do with this.” 

“Your manner tells me you know something about 
it.” 


“Shouldn’t wonder.” Then he glances at me 
eagerly, though nervously, and asks : “ Have I your 
support to get into English society ? Will you try and 
put me up at the English Club ? ” 

“Yes, by Jove ! ” I mutter desperately. “You get 
me to the bottom of this, and I am yours to com- 
mand.” Though as I say this I know the very men- 
tion of Khy’s name will make me the scoff of my com- 
patriots. I am inclined to think the constitution of the 
Club will bar him. Anyway, I know he’ll be black- 
balled till his pigtail stands on end. So I don’t feel 


JACK CURZON. 


43 


very much compromised about the matter, and with 
diplomatic candor proceed to give him hope. 

“Your grip on that/' cries Khy, and meeting my 
out-stretched hand, he again examines the paper care- 
fully, and remarks contemplatively: “It looks like 
my governor’s handwriting.” 

“ What ? This warning ! ” I gasp. 

‘ ‘ Oh, yes. I also think the package of cigarettes sent 
on board to the young lady was an additional one,” 
he whispers. “By Hookey, I was directed to suggest 
to Senorita Maud to smoke like blazes and get to the 
bottom of the box before she reached Manila.” 

“But why this peculiar underhand method of con- 
veying warning to Gordon’s daughter.?” I mutter. 
“ Besides, of what is it a warning ? ” 

‘ ‘ Hanged if I know,” answers Khy lazily. ‘ ‘ But you 
can bet my governor does.” 

“ Then why didn’t he say it openly ? ” 

“Ah, you don’t know Hen Chick,” he laughs. 
“My old man’s a regular Machiavelli, he is. Besides 
he is in Manila now ; went there after giving me direc- 
tions about those cigarettes for Gordon’s daughter, which 
he did with knees smiting together with the thought of 
Spanish officials jumping on him, which they’ll do like 
‘rough-on-rats ’ if they catch him monkeying with any 
of their little games.” 

“Ah, your father does this from love of Gordon and 
his daughter.” 

“No,” laughs Khy, “ my father never loved old Don 
Silas well enough to prevent his swindling him at any 
chance he could get in tobacco or hemp. As to his 
daughter, what does my old man care for a child who 
used to pull his pigtail every chance she got.” Then 
the young Chinaman astounds me, for he says con- 
templatively : “ No, I think the only thing that would 
make my governor dare to do something he fears will 
offend Spanish officials is his undying commercial 
hatred of old Adolph Ludenbaum, the Manila mer- 
chant.” 

“ How does that affect Gordon or his daughter?” 

“ Hanged if I know ! But in some way I think my 
father has dropped upon the fact that old Ludenbaum 
has some scheme of his own in connection with that 
family, and you can bet by the Seven Dragons, if old 


44 


JACK CURZON. 


Hen Chick can balk Adolph s little game, Hen Chick 
will do it quick as fire crackers/’ 

'‘Why does your father hate old Ludenbaum ? ” I 
ask astounded. 

“ Ah, that’s a corker ! That’s one of the finest com- 
mercial anecdotes I can tell you ! ” andKhy laughs till 
the tears roll down his face. “Any man who can get 
ahead of my governor in commerce from smuggling 
opium to discounting bills-of-lading on tea cargoes, 
is what at Yale they call a jim-dandy. But Ludenbaum 
did it and did it good ! It was something like six years 
ago, about the time my pigtail was commencing to 
attract attention at Yale,” says the young man, look- 
ing ruefully at the long and elegantly dressed queue 
that he wears, coiled around his head and concealed 
under his Broadway stovepipe. 

Then he goes on in an easy conversational way : 
“You know Chinese laws, commercial and other- 
wise, are rather different to those of you Outside 
Barbarians. Well Ludenbaum took advantage of 
the Chinese law to best my father in a most outrageous 
way. We Celestials are run on the patriarchal system. 
You don’t notice it much here in Hong Kong, but get 
into the interior of China and it will be poked under 
your nose at every whack of the Mandarins’ bamboo- 
men. Under this system, so long as his father lives, a 
son never becomes of age. My daddy would think no 
more of whaling me than he would if I were an inch high. 
Furthermore younger brothers are subservient to elder 
brothers. That is, if a father owes money he can’t pay, 
his sons have got to pay it for him, and are legally re- 
sponsible for the debt. Furthermore, if an elder brother 
busts in commerce or gambling, the younger brother 
is legally responsible for his elder brother’s financial 
deficiencies. * It is a lovely law. Under it, how would 

* This Chinese law which seems extraordinary to Western Bar- 
barians is in force in a great part of that empire. The author has 
known it even carried out in San Francisco among the various 
Chinese companies. One young Chinaman of his acquaintance 
threatened to commit suicide because his savings had been taken 
to pay the debts of his brother who had failed in the grocery business 
in Oakland, California, the Chinese companies enforcing the law of 
old China among their various members. He has also known in 
China a son arrested and put into jail and compelled to pay fraudu- 
lent demands on his dead father’s estate, which could not be disproved 


JACK CURZON. 


45 


you, Mr. Curzon, like to have an elder brother gam- 
bling in Argentines and Africans in the London stock 
exchange, or taking fliers in Wall Street in such fluct- 
uating insecurities as Tobacco Trust and Sugar. You 
would feel infernally secure in your own property and 
possessions, wouldn't you? But such is theConfucian 
idea ; and though it may be very fine for the heads of 
families, and may add to the credit and financial re- 
sponsibility of an elder brother who is a plunger and 
has a rich younger brother who is a sober, saving, busi- 
ness man, still it comes rather hard at times upon the 
juveniles of the family. Now my father had an elder 
brother. Hang Khy, the most infernal speculator and 
gambler in opium, tea and other fluctuating commodi- 
ties in all southern China; and by the holy poker, Hang 
Khy busted up ; failed for a big amount, chiefly, thank 
Josh, to Europeans. But Ludenbaum unfortunately, 
was one of my uncle's creditors. He bought up all the 
other European claims against Hang Khy, consoli- 
dated them, and turned them over to Wah Yuen of 
Hop Kee & Co. of Canton. So one fine day when my 
father was making a little visit up the river at Canton, 
by the living jingo, if Wah Yuen didn’t have him arrested, 
clapped into the Chinese jail for debt, and put through 
such a course of sprouts by the jailor who threatened to 
bamboo him to death, that he had to settle, on the 
Chinese basis, his brother’s debts ; not in full, I think, 
for there was never seen such kicking against the Con- 
fucian edicts and patriarchal system in China before, as 
my father set up in that Canton jail. But still Hen 
Chick had to pay a good many thousand taels to get 
free of the matter, and if ever there is one man who 
hates another, my father Hen Chick hates Adolph 
Max Ludenbaum with a diabolical compound com- 
mercial hatred. Some day, if I know my paternal, 
he’ll get even, with the accent on the even. But here 
we are at the float ; don't forget about the Club. ” 

Here I seize upon him and say : “ Don't you neglect 
to discover what you can of this matter." 

“All light!" Khy can't get over the English R, 

on account of the demise of the man against whom the claims were 
made. This actually happened upon his return to his native land, 
to Lee Wong, one of the leading merchants of San Francisco, who 
personally told the author of its occurrence.— Ed, 


46 


JACK CURZON. 


notwithstanding Yale. “If I drop onto it, I’ll send 
my card up to you after dinner at the English Club. 
That will add to my pull with any of the members 
who happen to see it,” says Khy, warily. 

“Very well then. Time is important,” I mutter. 

“Quite light. This very evening if I can get the 
pointer for you,” answers the Chinese dandy, and 
marches away, hopefully whistling: “ On the 
Bowery. ” 

I stroll up to the Club — but heat and perhaps 
anxiety have destroyed my appetite, and fortunately 
I postpone dinner — no food passing my lips, a thing 
that perchance saves my life. I have just about made 
up my mind to take something light when the 
following is brought in to me by one of the Club 
servants : 



Answering it, I hnd myself in the presence of this 
gentleman, who is now in most elaborate European 
evening dress. He holds in his hands a crush opera 
hat, which he bangs in and out with great ostentation 
and noise ; a pair of yellow kid gloves being stuck 
into it, Parisian fashion ; an immaculate handkerchief 
liberally perfumed, making its appearance just above 
the lapel of his low-cut white vest. 

Gazing at it, I know it is about the handsomest dress 
suit in Hong Kong ; and the gentleman it adorns, 
catching my eye, says pleasantly : “Yes, Bell of 
Fifth Avenue, New York, made this. He does all my 
clothes.” 

“What have you discovered about this ? ” I whisper, 
and hold the warning message to him. 

“So much I am weak in the knees ! ” Ah Khy looks 
at me in Chinese nervousness. 



JACK CURZON. 47 

“You think it means danger to Miss Gordon in 
Luzon ? 

“ Heaps ! So much I am afraid to do anything about 
it myself. It might get my dad executed in Manila." 

“Therefore you’re afraid to act in Hong Kong?" I 
remark sarcastically. 

“Light you are ! " mutters Khy, warily. 

“Well tell me about it. Whisper it in my ear if 
you’re nervous," I say impatiently. 

“I am afraid to whisper it in your ear. I know my 
governor hat'es old Ludenbaum with a commercial 
hate, but commercial vindictiveness doesn’t embrace 
the danger of military execution ; I may go to Manila 
myself someday, and — oh, hang it, dash it, I’m scared ! 
I guess lack of sand was the reason they didn’t put me 
on the Yale football team after all, ’’ he says with a sigh. 

“So you won’t tell me. Your chances of my vote 
and influence to get into the English Club are becom- 
ing gradually less, Mr. Khy," I remark. 

“ I dassent for ten English Clubs, a Japanese war 
club and an Australian boomerang thrown in. But 
for Josh’s sake, don’t be angry with me. Here’s 
what I’ll do. I dassent tell you, but I’ll take you to 
where, if you’ve sand enough to go, you’ll find out for 
yourself. But to-morrow," whispers the Chinaman in 
my ear, “your^^7/s who have been playing pool with 
you in there, "he points to the billiard room, “ may be 
your bearers. Excuse the joke ; it is one I heard 
at a variety show in the New York Tenderloin." 

. “ Damn your jokes ! " I growl. “ Does this blood- 
curdling mystery affect the girl I am about to marry ? " 

“It even affects your chances of marrying her.” 

“ I’ll go with you ! ’’ I answer determinedly. 

“Very well; but I must change your rig. Come 
with me," whispers Khy. 

A few minutes after I am following him through the 
half-lighted Tai-ping-shan. This is, as usual, full of 
paper lanterns, red and gilt signs, filthiness and burn- 
ing Josh-sticks. My appearance produces no particu- 
lar comment, as plenty of Europeans are trotting 
through the Chinese quarter at this early hour of the 
evening, which is as boilingly sultry as the day has been. 

Two minutes after I follow Mr. Khy into a thor- 
oughly Chinese house. 


48 


JACK CURZON. 


‘'These, you know, are not my real quarters,” he 
says deprecatingly. “I simply do this to please my 
paternal. Hen Chick thinks it will hurt our Chinese 
trade if I cut away from Orientalism. Got a wife here 
up-stairs, ” he adds laughingly, ‘ ‘ but she doesn't count 
for much. There's another one up in Canton. My old 
man believes my having a few scattered about will add 
to the prestige of the family. Now I’ll try and take 
some of the English out of you.” 

This he does with Chinese deftness, chattering to 
me all the while in a way that is by no means reassur- 
ing. “You go on your own risk, you know, old 
chappy,” he falters, and I can feel his hand which is 
painting dark eyebrows upon me, shake. “Don’t 
blame me, if they do you ! ” 

“Who'll do me?” I ask, impressed by his manner. 

Then the whole affair comes out ! 

“Oh, the secret society.” 

“The secret society of what ? '' 

“Of the h'ilipinos.” 

“ Oh, the one the Spaniards jeer at as Free Masons,” 
I scoff. ‘ ‘ The fellows who have the crazy idea they can 
drive out Spain and set up a republic in the Philip- 
pines.” 

“By the yellow dragon, you needn’t laugh,” 
whispers the Chinaman. “They have their head- 
quarters in Hong Kong. They have branches in Yoko- 
hama and Manila, Iloilo and Cebu, as well as agents 
in Madrid, New York and San Francisco. The band 
so permeates the islands the Governor-General knows 
he is in as much danger as if he lived on the Yellow 
River. It’s the one that’s cemented by the brotherhood 
of blood, with as many initiation mysteries as a Yale 
secret society. ” 

“ How do you know this? ” 

“I don’t know all of this, but you will know a good 
deal of it by to-morrow morning, if you live. All I 
know is that I can put you where you will find out. 
My father owns the building in which part of the gang 
hold their meetings. ” 

“ Your father dares rent them the building ? ” 

“Oh, the old man is between the Emperor and the 
Mandarin. If he gives away the Filipino society, if 
they ever get rule in Manila, they’ll do him. If he 


JACK CURZON. 


49 


doesn't give them away, the Spanish government may 
knock him out,” mutters Khy. 

“But how does this affect Senorita Gordon ?” 

“ Only this ! I am certain that my father's warning 
sent to you to prevent Maudie’s sailing, and the box 
of cigarettes he directed me to place in her cabin 
means somehow or other that old Gordon must be con- 
nected with this society.” 

Impossible ! ” I mutter. “ Old Gordon has too level 
a head to get mixed up with something that may cost 
him his life. He may fight the Spanish officials in 
court, but ” 

“Then some one of his family is connected,” in- 
terjects Khy. “I can't tell you how. No one knows 
the workings of this powerful league, but be sure it 
has something to do with that. Now if you have in- 
terest enough in the matter to discover what may 
destroy your- sweetheart's family and perhaps bust 
your nuptial knot, come with me.” 

“Heave ahead, and make me look like your Josh, 
for that's about the face you’re putting on me,” I re- 
tort. 

An hour after this, two Chinamen slip onto the 
street, one extremely awkward in the padded shoes 
of a Celestial, and whose face flushes with shame as 
a drunken English sailor salutes him with a degrad- 
ing kick as he tumbles against him, a kick he doesn't 
dare to resent, though this Chinaman mutters a British 
“ Damn you ! ” and clenches his fist John Bull fashion. 

So dodging along the dirtiest of Chinese alleys of 
the filthiest part of the Chinese quarter, we come to 
a low house, two stories in height. Khy who has ex- 
plained the matter to me, makes entry by some keys 
of his own, muttering tremblingly : “This is the place 
we rented to 'em. Judging by their former actions 
we're about an hour ahead of 'em. Now you’ll dis- 
cover if you don't funk.” 

“Go on,” I say, and stumble up an unlighted stair- 
way, where Khy, leading me into a room which is 
dark, lifts up the lid of a great chest which seems to 
have held tea from its odor and says: “If you’ve 
got sand enough to get in and lie there ; if you come 
out alive, you'll come out with the knowledge what 
the Filipinos mean -to do, and how it affects old 
4 


50 


JACK CURZON. 


Gordon and his daughters. You may come out dead. 
If so, there’ll be a row about it, but it won’t trouble 
you.” 

Following his guiding hand, I stumble into the large 
tea chest, Khy with Chinese subtlety placing several 
pieces of wood under the lid which prevents the trunk 
closing tight. This gives me the necessary air and also 
permits me, as I discover afterwards, to obtain a 
glimpse of portions of the room. 

“Now, you’ve a ‘ locky load’ before you,” mutters 
my mentor, whose agitation adds to his trouble with 
his R’s : to this he adds : “ There’s no wonder you Eng- 
lish conquer, you’ve got grit,” and gliding away in the 
darkness, leaves me, prey to a thousand conflicting 
emotions, the most vivid of which is that I am a 
cursed up-and-down all-night fool. 

Twice I think I hear a faint rustle ; once I feel 
what I imagine is a dagger driven into my back, 
but it is only a predatory rat which has taken a slight 
nip of me. The heat in my confined quarters is tre- 
mendous. It seems to me I remain boiling for months 
in this infernal, stifling tea chest. 

As I think of my helplessness, half a dozen times I 
wish I were some Western cowboy who always carries 
a pistol. 

I have just about made up my mind to get out of the 
trunk, sneak downstairs and bolt ; when suddenly I 
hear the noise of coming steps, not the footfalls of 
sleepy Mongolians, but those of quick, nervous, ener- 
getic, athletic men. 

A moment after, a faint glow comes to my eyes 
through the clinks under the lid of the tea chest. 

I gaze out. As well as I can discover, three men, 
one dressed as a Mestizo, another as a European and 
the third as a Chinaman, but all smoking cigarettes, 
have lighted a lamp, and are seated at a small Chinese 
table with various papers and documents before them. 
One of them says: “Our comrade is late; and to- 
night is important, as after this we do not meet till 
our knives touch each other in the heart of Captain- 
General Ramon Blanco y Arenas.” 

Another answers: “He’ll be here. You know 
that there is none of the brotherhood who can be trusted 
more profoundly than Sehor Tonga. Some woman on 


JACK CURZON. 


51 


the Esmeralda attracted his attention to-day ; some 
woman whom, I think, he loves.” 

‘ ‘ Carrajo, love is dangerous ! Love has defeated a 
Filipino insurrection against the infernal Spanish a 
hundred years ago. You have heard, my comrade, the 
story of the woman who betrayed to the priest that 
her lover was to assassinate the Captain-General. 
May not the same ill fate come to us ? ” 

''Diablo! There’s only one woman I fear in all this 
business, the wife of Pedro Roxas. She’s a devotee ; 
she goes to confessional each week,” says the other in 
Filipino lingo. 

As I listen to these words, I cogitate grimly: “ What 
would Blanco give to hear this.?” I -have grown 
strangely confidant. The room seems quite a large 
one. As I look about, I see a number of tea chests in 
remote corners, and the one that conceals me is the 
most out of the way of the lot. I even debate if I 
could not make things easy for my sweetheart’s family 
with the Spanish officials in the Philippines by letting 
this plot out to Don Ramon Blanco. 

A moment after, I hear a coming step. 

I catch a glimpse of a man as he enters ; five feet 
seven in height ; of lithe form and peculiar face > high 
cheek bones ; a nose of extraordinary expression and 
power, its nostrils dilating and contracting with every 
breath ; lines running up each cheek to the eyes black 
as coal ; a wondrous nose, aquiline yet dilated. He 
gives me an awful start. I recognize him as the man 
whose words had stricken Maud upon the Esmer- 
alda. 

As he comes in, one of the others rising and giving 
him a peculiar hand-grip, says : “Welcome, brother! 
This is our last meeting here I ” 

“Yes,” he answers. “It is adtosiiW'WQ clasp hands 

on the Luneta after we have put our knives into ” 

Suddenly the speaker stops his jaws. I see his nos- 
trils dilating. He glides to the door and locks it. 
Then his words freeze me with fear and make my 
blood run cold as ice even on this burning night My 
hair stands on end; not the false pigtail Khy has at- 
tached to me, but my real hair. For this man as he 
has secured the door, drawing in his breath two or 
three times with wondrous sniffs, has made this as- 


52 


JACK CURZON. 


tounding yet awful declaration: “Brothers, I smell 

A STRANGER ! ” 

But the others, who are not gifted with his damnable 
power, seem hardly to credit him. 

One of them cries : “ No man who loves his life 
would dare ” 

Another, a little half Spanish creature, jeers : “Non- 
sense ! Ata Tonga, you believe too much in your nose.’' 

'‘Santo Dios ! Did you ever know it to fail me ! " And 
going to him, Ata takes a sniff of him ; takes a sniff 
of the other, and then of the third. A moment after he 
says impressibly : “There is a fourth; I smell a 
fourth ! ” 

“ What smell ? ” And his companions spring up, 
now apparently convinced. 

“The odor of some beef-eating race; English per- 
chance. Certainly not Chinese or Oriental.” 

“ Where is he ? ” 

I know I am gone ! 

For the brute commences to follow the scent like a 
hound about the room, muttering: “It is stronger! 
It is stronger ! It is stronger ! ” With a sudden move- 
ment he throws up the lid of the tea chest and I see 
over me a long Malay kris, gleaming in the soft lamp- 
light of the room. 

“ He is here ; the spy of the Captain-General ; and 
here he stays ! ” snarls my executioner. 

But by sudden inspiration, even as the knife is de- 
scending upon me, I scream : “Ata Tonga! For the 
love of Senorita Gordon .” 

‘ ‘ Ata Tonga ! You know me ? ” and he staggers back 
surprised. 

“Yes, I saw you to-day as I placed your mistress on 
the Esmeralda." 

“ Santos f It is the voice of the Englishman who as- 
sisted my beloved lady from one steamer to the other 1 ” 

In a second I am pulled out of the tea chest by an 
athletic grip, and stand staring like a Chinese fool into 
the faces of four human beings who look upon me with 
a distrust and hate I hope never to see again on the 
faces of men who have knives in their hands. One of 
them growls : “ The silent tongue is always the safest. 
Englishman disguised as Chinaman, your life has 
ended 1 ” 


JACK CURZON. 


S3 


But I, inspired, whisper : Down with your hand, 
Ata Tonga ! How will you dare face your mistress 
if you slay one who would save her from her enemies ! ” 
Looking at me, the educated savage takes a mighty 
sniff and astonishes me by muttering: “You smell 
TRUE ! Brothers, there is still the odor of wild roses on 
his lips. My lady must have kissed him. This man 
must be our friend ! ” 

And I, relieved from the fear of sudden death and 
blessing God that I have sullied my lips with neither 
food nor drink nor cigar since Maud’s sweet lips gave 
sister’s greeting unto mine, stammer out: “By the 
shades of Vidocq, what a detective you would make I ” 


CHAPTER V. 

ATA TONGA. 

At my words, this astounding being bursts into a low 
hoarse chuckle of barbaric laughter; but a moment 
later takes two or three sniffs, and apparently follow- 
ing some odor to the door, remarks: “A Chinaman 
was here a little time ago. He probably secreted 
you.” Then he adds impressively: “ Senor Curzon — 
you see I know your name — to save your life you 
must tell us how you came here, why you are here, 
and then become one of us, cementing your oath even 
with the compact of mingled blood.”* 

‘‘Join your gang — that has assassination under way 
— if I understood the words that came to me a few mo- 
ments ago ! ” I reply indignantly. “You don’t know 
me. I’m an Englishman, and do my killing above 
board. ” 

“It is because we have assassination under consid- 
eration and because you have discovered it, that you 

must join us ; otherwise ! ” He waves his hand 

with a significant barbaric gesture. 

“ Hang it, you’re not going to let those devils mur- 
der me ? ” I mutter, as I see the other three begin to 

* For particulars regarding this peculiar admission to the 
Society of United Filipinos, see Appendix.— Ed. 


54 


JACK CURZON. 


eye me as hawks do their prey, and their hands again 
raise the cruel gleaming Malay krises. 

“ Each one of these has been poisoned to make sure 
work in the enterprise before us,” remarks the educated 
savage, “so you can judge, Senor, that a very slight 
wound will be sufficient, though as a matter of mercy, 
I shall direct them to strike you in the heart.” 

Seeing the nasty, wavy, spiral blades upraised, and 
knowing from these conspirators’ faces that if I would 
live I must speak like lightning, I hastily cry: “I’ll 
join you ! Give me the required oath ! ” 

Then cursing myself for being a fool and getting 
myself into such a scrape, I go through with these con- 
spirators a ceremony, impressive, barbarous. With 
their mystic knife they make the indelible mark of the 
Katipunan upon my left forearm and the Blood-Brother- 
hood begins. With our mingled life blood from our 
punctured arms and legs, I sign an oath making me a 
member of the Katipunan, that great society which 
racked for eighteen months the Filipinos with war, 
bloodshed and torture ; the war of the enslaved against 
a barbarous government ; the torture of hapless 
women and children by Spanish despots ; the torments 
in revenge of Spanish priests and soldiers ; the blood- 
shed alike of both the innocent and guilty. 

“This document and the sign upon your forearm 
will insure, Senor Curzon, your fidelity to us,” remarks 
Ata Tonga, his manner becoming more affable. “ Let 
me present to you as brothers, Gorgio Posas, Antonio 
Ramona and Lee Hang Pauh, if ever you receive this 
grip and this salutation, you may know a brother greets 
you ! ” And he instructs me in the peculiar signs, signals 
and tokens of the United League of the Filipinos. “But 
I warn you,” he goes on impressively, ^‘if it becomes 
known to the Governor-General at Manila that you are 
a brother of El Katipunan your life will be worth in 
Spanish hands about as much as mine, which would 
be very little. Will you amuse yourself with a cigar 
while I confer with our brothers.” He offers me a 
very good weed, remarking: “You are perfectly 
w^orthy of our confidence now, though I don’t suppose 
you would like to join in our discussion, as we four gen- 
tlemen are appointed to assassinate Captain-General 
Blanco. You need not start and look surprise^, I am 


JACK CURZON. 


55 

perfectly confident you appreciate the oath you have 
taken. Besides it would mean your almost immediate 
assassination, should you ever divulge any secret vital 
to our order.” 

Whereupon leaving me, puffing his cigar, in a state 
of amazed coma, he goes into some private conversa- 
tion with my brethren, who shortly after wish me 

Adios ” very kindly and depart. 

Then drawing a chair up to me, and lighting a cigar, 
Ata Tonga says to me, a decisive ring in his tones : 
“ Now in regard to my lady, Senorita Maud.? There 
is a kind of loving reverence in his voice. ' ‘ From your 
hasty words, I judge you came here, Senor Curzon, 
with some ultimate view of discovering something that 
would aid her. You can have perfect confidence in 
me, not only as one who adores the breeze that blows 
her perfume to me, but as the Head of your section of 
our brotherhood. Of course, ” he looks round the room, 
“this is not the meeting-place of the main Junta 
Hong Kong, only the rendezvous of a certain portion 
of us who have a fixed work to do, and as such fool- 
ishly thought, in an out-of-the-way quarter, with no 
special guard upon it, the place would not be conspic- 
uous.” To this he adds smilingly : “You brought 
a Chinaman with you who showed you this place of 
meeting. Under other circumstances, I would have 
compelled you on your oath of brotherhood to tell me 
who he is, but having taken sniff of the fellow and 
having registered his odor, I can recognize him on the 
most crowded street in Hong Kong.” 

“ Impossible ! ” I ejaculate. 

“Perfectly simple! For he is an anomaly among 
his race. This Chinaman has become a beef-eater like 
you English.” 

Remembering Khy’s statement as to his Delmonico 
cook, I answer this with an unconcealed grin and a 
muttered : “ My God, what a boon you would be to 
Scotland Yard 1 ” 

“Yes, I have been told that before ; this instinct, that 
has come to me from my savage tribe has been but 
slightly diminished by the enervation of what you call 
civilization,” he replies. Then he laughs : “I see by 
your face and learn by your words that my nose has 
made no mistake in my Chinaman ! — Now 1 ” and his 


JACK CURZON. 


$6 

manner becomes very serious, “ as you are an English- 
man and have their peculiar ideas of never peaching 
on a confederate, I shall only ask from you this ques- 
tion : Will you state to me on your honor as a member 
of the United Filipino Society, whose brand is upon 
your arm, whose oath you have taken in your blood, 
in my blood, in the blood of three others of our broth- 
ers, that this Chinaman knows nothing more than that 
this room is our meeting-place? — I ask that for his 
safety as well as yours ! " 

For one moment I think the matter over, then 
promptly answer : “ He knows nothing more. In fact 
he is afraid to learn anything more." 

“ Very well, that saves his life,” says Ata Tonga, as 
he smokes his cigar contemplatively. “ Now what do 
you wish to learn with regard to Senor Gordon and his 
family ? ” 

To this I reply, very much impressed by this civil- 
ized savage's manner: “I wish to know what hidden 
danger hangs over my affianced, Senorita Mazie Inez 
Gordon.” 

Ata’s answer is reassuring. “ None ! ” he says, ‘ ‘ ex- 
cept what will come to her through the misfortunes of 
her family.” 

“You mean old Gordon and the young lady who 
left here to-day ? ” 

“Yes; the dangers before them arise mostly from 
our projected insurrection.” 

“Ah ! old Gordon is a member of this Society ? ” 

“No ; he is too cautious. But his daughter is.” 

“ Great Heaven ! ” I cry, “ that beautiful girl ! ” 

“ Yes ! You know what Spanish mercy is.” 

“ How under Hades did she become a member? ” 

“Through the agency of a man she thought her 
father's friend, her friend ; Herr Adolph Ludenbaum, 
who hopes through her fears to obtain some hold upon 
her— for what accursed purpose I do not know." 

“How, under Heaven, was she persuaded?” 

“ My dear lady was only a child at the time,” mut- 
ters the devoted Tagal. “She loved liberty. Cam- 
hunian bless her for it.* At that time, six years ago, 
there was little thought of insurrection in the Filipinos. 

* Cambunian is the god of certain tribes of Mountain Tagals who 
have been unconverted* — E d. 


JACK CURZON. 


57 

The Society * was then more for peaceable resistance 
to the Spanish tax gatherer than for open rebellion. 
Now it has become a great, far-reaching power that 
will make war upon Spain and drive her from our 
islands. With Senorita Ysab^l’s impulsive nature, and 
her brave heart, my lady, child of nature that she was, 
some time before she went to the United States, when 
scarcely over fourteen years of age, became a member 
of our order. To this she was artfully incited by the 
German whose stink is like the anaconda.’' 

“She has the indelible brand upon her arm ” 

“No,” smiles Ata Tonga — though she was a child 
in years, my dear mistress was vain of her beauty — it 
was placed upon her leg.” 

“But you who love her, why did not you prevent 
this child placing herself in a position that may make 
her the victim of a vindictive government who believes 
in exterminating all rebels ? ” I ask, indignation in my 
voice. 

But Ata Tonga’s eyes flash with greater rage than 
mine. “ Because, ” he snarls, “ I never knew ! I was 
not even a member of the society in those days. It was 
only after Senorita Ysabel had taken the breath of the 
wild roses with her across the sea that I became sick 
at heart on the great plantation under the mountains 
of Caraballo de Baler, where I had been tutored by 
monks to read and write. 

“ Journeying from there I came across the sea to 
Hong Kong, hoping to follow the being who has my 
life blood at her service. 

‘^In Hong Kong for my livelihood I was com- 
pelled to become a ’riksha boy. Sweating under the 
burdens of a coolie, I caught the fever, and when re- 
covered was too weak to do the work of a pony. But 
by the pleasant act of a kind Englishman I was given 
light employment in the custom-house handling pack- 
ages of tea. One day I chanced to scent in a case 
through the pervading perfume of the tea leaf that of 
the poppy which you call opium. I told my master, 
and he made a great seizure of the smuggled drug. 

“ Receiving a large amount for his astuteness, the Brit- 
ish oflicial, more just than most men, gave me a goodly 


* For details of this extraordinary society, see Appendix. — E d. 


JACK CURZON. 


S8 

portion of it ; and suggested to me that I could perhaps 
make a fortune by detecting opium in the various pack- 
ages the Chinese, with their cunning smuggling arts, 
concealed so deftly. But it seemed to me a poor busi- 
ness, devoting a great faculty merely to make a gov- 
ernment rich. In my simple way, I could live for a 
long time upon the money in my hand. I did so, and 
by study increased the knowledge given me by the 
priests. Nature had made me a savage, but I made 
myself an educated one. I said ; “I’ll raise myself to 
where my mistress can look upon me and say : ‘ This 
gentleman’ not ‘this coolie’ ‘ is my servitor !’ With 
knowledge came the love of liberty and the desire to 
obtain it, not for myself alone, but for the millions of 
my fellow Filipinos, whose pay to the tax gatherer is 
half the sweat of their brow each year ; who when they 
are short in their corve^, as punishment for not having 
money enough for their tyrants, are drafted into the 
Spanish armies and sent to Mindanao to fight the in- 
trepid Moros, and die like dogs in the swamps and 
jungles of that sultry island. 

“Soon I found others who thought like me, and be- 
came known to the Society of the United Filipinos, of 
which you are now an affiliated brother. Englishman, 
you need not be ashamed of your comrades. There 
are some great men among them. Luna, the artist, the 
two Roxas, the richest Mestizos in the Filipinos ; Dr. 
Josd Rizal, the savant of the Institute at Manila, who 
invented the mystic rights of the Katipunan and its 
Blood-Brotherhood, who drafted the constitution of 
our Filipino League, Emilip Aguinaldo, Sandigo and 
Atachio. You see I am candid to you as I should be 
to a brother of our order. On my initiation into the 
Katipunan, I for a time became its secretary. Imagine 
my astonishment when in its records I found the name 
of my dear mistress, who cannot aid us — at least, I think 
not — but who can become its victim and its martyr. 
Help me to save her ! ” 

“I will ! ” I answer. “ Because in aiding her I save 
her sister from a great sorrow ; perchance from destruc- 
tion with her.” 

“ Diablo ! your hand on that. You smell true ! ” 
he cries impulsively. And as our fingers clasp some- 
thing tells me Ata’s heart is true also. 


JACK CURZON. 


59 


‘‘That is a great sense I have," laughs the Tagal, 
of telling other men’s minds with ^a breath of my 
nostrils. Still had your lips been sullied to-day, Senor 
Curzon, with the odor of cigar, the stink of ardent 
spirits or the flavor of the strong curry you English- 
men enjoy in this hot land, I might have missed the 
perfume of roses from you and not known my mistress 
had guaranteed you by the touch of her rosebud lips. 
But the atmosphere of this secluded room is stifling 
with every window closed and barred," he says rising. 
“Come with me to my quarters. I live like a 
European. Not being a Chinaman I can even sleep 
at the great Hong Kong Hotel. At my room I’ll give 
you full details." 

So we go out together, and I walk along the streets 
by the side of this being who, dressed almost as a 
gentleman of fashion, has the marvelous sense of his 
own savage tribe. “To you this must be a strange 
world," I whisper, “a world not only of sight but of 
scent.’’ 

Diablo” he laughs, “ it would be a curious world 
to me, if I were to lose my nose. 1 should feel as help- 
less as you would if you lost your eyes. ’’ 

We have just reached the intersection of Wyndham 
Street and Queen’s Road. Gazing over the granite clock 
tower, I see the open windows of the English Club. 
“What does your nose tell you they are doing in 
there .? ’’ I ask. 

“ Drinking," he laughs. 

“Pshaw, I could have guessed that myself," I say. 

“Yes, but can you guess what is in that closed t.al- 
anquin coming down the hill ? ’’ 

“ How can I tell in semi-darkness and the curtains 
very carefully drawn." 

“ Well, then, there is a Chinese woman of the town 
behind those closed draperies." 

“ The devil you say ! ’’ 

“ That was not difficult. The odor of the red pig- 
ment with which these poor creatures always paint 
their cheeks, disclosed her to me. Stay, there is a faint 
breeze blowing up Wyndham Street from the water. 
You can’t see down it, can you ? " he questions. 

“ Of course not, the corner of the Hong Kong Hotel 
prevents me." 


6o 


JACK CURZON. 


“Well, ril tell you what’s coming up it. Watch 
the people as they pass, and say if I am right." 

“Very well," I answer eagerly. 

“First," and my savage takes a sniff or two of the 
air, “there is a German ; I think a mate or captain of 
some foreign vessel ; for to me not only comes the 
odor of sourkraut but it is mingled with imported 
schnapps." 

“Pooh, I can smell the sourkraut myself," I laugh. 

“Ah, yes, but after the German sea-captain is walk- 
ing a Chinaman carrying a large parrot and a small 
monkey. Tell me if I am right." 

“ By heavens, yes ! " I murmur. 

“ Behind him is a Malay, probably from the more 
southern islands, as he smells of sandal wood." 

“Yes," I say, peeking around. 

“And here," Ata Tonga suddenly sniffs the air vi- 
ciously, and whispers in my ear; “comes the China- 
man who lives on meat ; the man who guided you to 
our rooms." 

Looking down the street I start astounded at the 
wondrous instinct of this educated savage. For 
nearly twenty yards away I see Mr. Ah Khy, re- 
arrayed now in his dress suit, with monocle jabbed in 
his Mongolian eye, sauntering up the street, and 
twirling his cane with the airs of a Broadway or Picca- 
dilly lounger. 

The passing Chinese dandy gives me a startled gasp 
as he sees me in company with this wondrous creature 
and — alive. 

A moment later I give a gasp also. The TagaPs 
eyes have a strange apprehension in them. He says to 
me after Ah Khy has moved on : “That Chinaman is 
the son of old Hen Chick of Manila. Was your meet- 
ing him brought about in any way by Senorita Gor- 
don. It is important that I know for the safety of my 
lady. " 

Seeing that Ata Tonga means what he says, I whis- 
per to him : “Come to my rooms where I can get off 
these miserable Chinese garments, and Til tell you 
everything about the affair." 

“I am at your service." 

Together we walk to my apartments, somes little 
distance below the Botanical Gardens, from which 


JACK CURZON. 


6i 


drifts to us the faint music of the band of one of the 
garrison regiments, that is playing its last airs for the 
evening. 

Here, praise the Lord, there is a little breeze. I 
throw off rny Chinese garments; take a hurried tub; 
get into civilized togs once more, and sitting down by 
Ata Tonga relate to him the whole history of the day, 
and show him the curious warning ; adding to this what 
Khy has told me about his father's connection with it. 

As he listens, the eyes of the Tagal grow strangely 
luminous. He whispers to me : ‘'We have but little 
time to lose. My mistress, Senorita Ysabel, is in the 
midst of some plot ; some intrigue of Ludenbaum’s, 
the German anaconda ; some plot to entangle her and 
her family. I can’t tell you what ; but be sure it has 
the subtlety of a Judge of the accursed Supreme Court 
of Manila, the most infamous tribunal upon this 
earth.* 

“What makes you think that ? " 

' ‘ The warning given by Hen Chick is to prevent my 
lady's going to where the Spanish have authority. 
He hates Ludenbaum with all his Chinese soul. I have 
caught that musty odor that Chinamen give out when 
enraged, whenever the anaconda-smelling German has 
been in Hen Chick’s presence. He perhaps guesses 
what her danger is, but is apparently afraid to disclose 
it. You must go to Manila at once." 

i i j »> 

“Yes! Leave by the next steamer I I shall probably 
be there not much later, but can't go your easy way. 
My passport will not be viseed by the Spanish Con- 
sul," grins the conspirator. 

“ You are sure that haste is as important as that 1 " 

“Possibly ! still — " Ata Tonga thinks deeply for a 
moment; then mutters: “ perhaps not, for our insur- 
rection does not come before the fifteenth of September. 
That’s the time appointed, when, our krises will be 
sharpened. Inform me if any new information comes 
to you. I will communicate with you if I receive any 
news of my dear lady. But be assured, " he says, as he 
salams before me, “ that there is some hidden danger 

* For details of this so-called tribunal of Justice see Appendix. — 

£d. 


62 


JACK CURZON. 


to my beloved mistress which perhaps involves her 
sister, the girl you love/’ 

“With evjn a suspicion of that/’ I burst out, “how 
could you let Maud in her youth, beauty and courage 
leave this afternoon ? You spoke to her.” 

Here the poor fellow commences to wring his hands 
and moans, his eyes growing haggard : “It was I 
who ordered her to go. I was instructed by the Kati- 
punan to command our sister to be in Manila on a 
certain day. It was an awful blow to my lady. In 
the free land of America, so far away from the con- 
spiracies' of rebels against despots, the poor child had 
almost forgotten she was bound by the Katipunan 
oath ; that her signature written in her own fair 
blood was upon the scroll of Spain’s foes and Spain’s 
victims.” 

“You commanded her to go.?” I muttered as- 
tounded. 

“Yes; by orders from our highest council. And 
let me tell you my new brother of the Filipino League, 
their commands must be obeyed. Senor Curzon, I warn 
you if you receive any orders from the secretyww/^z, take 
heed that you fulfil them ; otherwise your life is not 
worth as much as a game-cock’s in a gallina. ” Then 
a new idea coming into the mind of this creature 
of subtle instinct, he smites his hands together and 
shudders; “Perhaps that infamous old German may 
have some secret connection, some underhand in- 
fluence, with some one high up in the councils of our 
Society. That’s my lady’s great danger. By the 
Katipunan he may place Senorita Ysabel in a position 
where she must affront the power of Spain ; by his 
influence with Spanish officials, especially the Cor- 
regidor of Nueva Ecija, old Ludenbaum can make 
sure of my darling lady’s being the victim of cruel 
military punishment, unless she does his bidding.” 

“But what does Ludenbaum want Maud to do?” 
I ask earnestly. 

“That I can’t tell. Sometimes my nose has sug- 
gested the fat old rascal loves her, but his stink is so 
strong of anaconda, my sense in such a delicate point 
is confused. 

“ If he does,” goes on the Tagal, the wild light of a 
Malay in his burning eyes, “it is the love that destroys. 


JACK CURZON. 


63 

and by the Burning Island of the Lake of the Taal my 
kris will be in his heart. But,” he breaks into a short 
laugh, “ I am becoming as excited as if I were still a 
savage, Senor Curzon. Remember I am found at the 
Hong Kong Hotel. Communicate with me only if 
absolutely necessary. Together we will save my 
adored lady, whose breath is as wild roses. In that 
we are brothers ! ” And the Tagal rubs my nose with 
his in proof of fellowship, and leaving me, strides 
down the hill ; while I, looking after him, notice his 
step is that low, gliding, springy motion peculiar to 
some tribes of savages and beasts of prey who hunt 
their game by night. 

Then with a kind of a jeering laugh, I remark : “By 
Jove ! what would Phil Marston of the Navy say to all 
this ? ” and turn into my burning bed to try and get a 
little sleep. 

The next morning, however, a cablegram from 
Manila marked “delayed in transmission ” comes to 
me at my office, where I am performing my mercan- 
tile labors in a very perfunctory kind of manner. 

It reads : 

“ Use your own judgment. — G ordon.” 

Any telegram from him means to keep his daughter 
in Hong Kong. It has been delayed by the infernal 
Spanish censor, and I have permitted the brave girl to 
journey to Spanish danger. 

In less than an hour after this I succeeded in induc- 
ing Martin, Thompson & Co. to think it is necessary for 
their interests and on strictly mercantile grounds, 
that I should be in Manila ; certain cables from the 
Philippines telling of political unrest making my em- 
ployers agree with me. 

A little later in the day I obtain a few words with 
my Tagal fellow of the Katipunan, show him the cable, 
and explain its hidden significance. 

“What danger do you think Gordon fears for his 
daughter ? ” I ask eagerly. 

The answer of this subtle savage astounds me. 
“ You have told me,” he says, “ that my honored lady 
has placed herself under the protection of that great 
republic whose power is far from here, but which, my 
reading tells me, Spain both fears and hates, because it 
is near to her in other portions of the world.” 


6ii 


JACK CURZON. 


'‘Yes/’ I answer. 

“Then if the Spanish officials know this, it is some 
plot to take away the shield she has seized for the pro- 
tection of her father’s and sister’s possessions. You 
know the tobacco lands up at Nueva Ecija are very 
valuable. The political suspicions of the authorities 
make them nervously tyrannical, and it is so easy to 
accuse — so difficult to disprove — a person’s being a 
member of a secret society, to which no one dares 
admit he belongs. Even to be an innocent Free Mason 
means absolute destruction at present in the Philippine 
Islands.* No accusation is too extraordinary to be 
made against a Filipino, accused of being an insurrecto. 
If you would aid her, go at once ! ” commands the 
savage. “Ata Tonga will not be long after you.” 

Fortunately I find “ going at once ” is not dif- 
cult. I discover a freight boat that leaves this very 
afternoon for Manila. Upon her I take passage. 
To my delight I discover the English tramp steamer is 
a speedy one, and her charter commands despatch. 

Therefore after running through the Boca Chica into 
the bay, and dropping anchor off La Muy Noble Ciudad 
of Manila, I find myself only forty-eight hours after the 
time the Esmeralda has delivered Senorita Maud Ysabel 
Gordon into the land where she may be made the vic- 
tim of Spanish officials. 

* The Spanish officials in the Philippines called the Society of 
United Filipinos, Free Masons, as this order has been condemned 
by the Catholic Church. The names Free Mason and secret con- 
spirator against the Spanish Government in Luzon were considered 
synonymous- — Appleton' s Day Book, 1896. 

“ It has been related by those who know, that the honor of wife or 
the virtue of daughter of the unlucky Filipino is held at the disposal 
of P'raile on demand. Resistance to such a demand means certain 
denouncement of the victim to the civil power as a ‘ Free Mason,’ 
or a ‘ sympathizer of insurrectoesl The civil officials know much 
better than to question any charge of this kind emanating from such 
a source, and the unlucky man vanishes forever from his family. 
What goes on in Philippine prisons without trial in the way of tor- 
ture, thirst, starvation, misery, mutilation and murder, has been of 
late a common enough theme .” — Singapore Free Press, August 2, 
1898. 


BOOK 11. 


THE DAUGHTERS OF THE EXPATRIATED 
AMERICAN. 

CHAPTER VI. 

A FILIPINO TIFFIN. 

It is beyond mid-day when we come to our moor- 
ings at the anchorage, off the breakwater at the mouth 
of the Pasig. It is the rainy season : but not raining. 
The soft southwest monsoon is blowing lazily, making 
scarce a ripple on the sunlit water of the great Manila 
Bay, whose boundary mountains, the Sierra Marvieles, 
are visible towards the west. 

To the north are lands so low they are scarce visible, 
through which the Rio Grande de Pampanga flows by 
many mouths into the bay. But to the eash not much 
over a mile away, lies Manila, cut into two parts by 
the Pasig. To the south of the river is La muy noble 
Ciudad, the Old Town, ecclesiastic, military, mediaeval, 
and despotic, its ancient batteries fringed with frowning 
guns, many of them planted a couple of centuries ago 
to overawe Malay and Sulu pirates, who didn’t hesitate 
in the brave days of old, to raid the shipping of the 
bay, despite the curses of the Captain-General, anathe- 
mas of the Archbishop and cannon of its capital. 

Above the old Fort of Santiago floats the flag of 
Spain, indicative always of a colony struggling against 
the oppression of the Spanish official, in haste to 
loot a fortune, and the Spanish tax-gatherer, relentless 
in his greed. 


66 


JACK CURZON. 


Beyond this is the great cathedral, with its two 
steeples, one standing, the other in ruins from the 
great earthquake of some thirty years before. 

To the north of the Pasig, in contrast to the Old Town, 
whose narrow streets are filled with a population more 
intensely Spanish than Spain itself, is the modern 
Manila, that commercial emporium, which ships the 
immense produce of these islands to the utmost ends of 
the earth, the Binondo and its surrounding suburbs, 
Tondo, Trozo, Santa Cruz and more aristocratic San 
Miguel, the busy hives of enterprising foreign mer- 
chants, ingenuous Tagal artisans, crafty Chinese trad- 
ers, and tireless sweating coolies. 

All this is back-grounded by tropic nature, green in 
this, the rainy season, unto the very city’s walls ; 
paddy fields, plantations of bamboos and bananas, 
groves of cocoanuts and other tropic fruit, mingled 
with flowers of wondrous hues growing everywhere. 
Back of all this, the two great mountains, Malfonnso 
and Mateo, sink into low foot-hills that, more verdant 
than the higher peaks, melt into a sea of green, the 
plain around Manila, drained, yet irrigated by the 
placid Pasig River and it numerous tributaries. 

Surrounding this is the whole great Island of Luzon 
with its fringe of volcanic mountains upon the western 
coast, and its three grand volcanoes, Alba, Taal and 
Mayon ; its wondrous plants, flowers and tropic 
forests ; its curious races of mankind, the little Negri- 
tos, they of agile toes that do the work of other 
people’s hands, inhabiting the wild mountains of the 
north safe from the Spanish tax-gatherer, the subtle 
Tagals, many of whom have thrown away, the virtues 
of the savage for the vices of the civilized, and come 
into this town of Manila to be its skilled workmen 
and artisans of facile fingers in weaving pina webs 
and molding gold and silver, also the Mestizos they of 
mixed race, who are neither European nor Chinese 
nor Tagalog nor Aetas, but a melange of blood and 
intellect as varied as the voices of the Tower of Babel. 
Though whate’er their former creeds have been, Buddha 
or Vishnu or Mohammed, or worshipers of that mys- 
terious being that strikes them down by lightning 
thunderbolts that they call Cambunian, they all, men 
and women, girls and boys, carry candles and march 


JACK CURZON. 


67 


in religious festins and cross themselves and go to 
confession and salam to padres, as members of the 
Church of Rome ; all these hating Spain, yet bowing 
to the flag that floats over the Citadel of Santiago. In 
short, the whole Island of Luzon ; in places unexplored, 
for there are many mountain chasms swept by rapid 
waterfalls and many numerous tropic forests whose 
matted tendrils forbid entrance save to wild beasts, and 
lots of jungle swamps that are but the haunt of reptiles, 
and other places where the foot of man seems to walk 
too near his God as he treads foothills trembling to the 
unceasing eruptions of the great volcanic mountain 
Mayon, or as he touches the waters of the Lake Bom- 
bon made tepid by molten lava from the fiery islet 
called the. Mount of Taal. 

Yet even as I look upon it, all tropical romance is 
destroyed by the foreground of the modern commerce 
of Manila ; vessels are casting anchor, ships are going 
to sea, a coasting steamer is coming to her quay 
on the Pasig from Catbalogan, Cebu, and other 
Southern islets ; a Spanish warship, the Don Juan de 
Austria, is just sending off its steam launch full of 
young officers whose joyous faces show they have got 
shore leave ; crafts are moving everywhere, those of 
lighter draft into the busy quays of the Pasig to dis- 
charge their cargoes, larger vessels being unloaded by 
lighters and bancas managed by swarming crews of 
vigorous never tiring coolies, not eight-hour men, but 
sixteen-hour fellows, sweating but uncomplaining. 

Yet this scene means nothing more to me than, • 
“ Here is the town that holds one sister whom I am, 
God willing, to marry, another sister whom I am, by 
the blessing of God, to save— save from what 

Who knows ? 

Am I in time ? 

That ril find out on shore. 

Apparently something political or military is taking 
place even now. I think I see the gleam of arms of a 
regiment crossing the Puente de Espana over the Pasig. 

This military matter is brought most rapidly home 
to me by little Tommy Simpson of the British Consul s 
office who is out in a steam launch to visit our skipper 
on some routine official duty. 

Answering his hail and invitation, and very anxious 


68 


JACK CURZON. 


not only to know how the young lady lor whose wel- 
fare I have come has fared, but likewise to have a kiss 
of my own beautiful sweetheart, I spring into the 
boat, and under its stern awning consternation comes 
upon me. 

“You have heard the news? ” whispers Simpson. 

“What news?” 

“Why, that Blanco has headed off the Filipino So- 
ciety in a way that makes their hair stand on end.” 

“ What the deuce do you mean ? ” I mutter. 

“ Well, they had intended as far as I can find out to 
massacre the Spaniards and capture the citadel over 
there,” he waves his hand towards the Old Town, 
“before Spain could, embarrassed as she is by the 
war in Mindanao, get enough troops here to put them 
down. But their secret was revealed \)y the wife of 
Pedro Roxas, their most prominent leader who aspired 
to become emperor of the new nation. Roxas' wife 
being a devotee disclosed it at confessional to a priest, 
and the priest naturally revealed it to the Captain- 
General. Of course Roxas' wife said nothing to her 
husband fearing that he would murder her. Captain- 
General Blanco said nothing also, but quietly brought 
troops from Mindanao and hurried a few reinforce- 
ments from Spain also. Whereupon, feeling strong 
enough, Blanco has arrested Roxas, his cousin F. L. 
Roxas, likewise the American, Thomas L. Collins, who 
had an old claim against the government for destroy- 
ing his business and confiscating his property in 1874, 
and any quantity of other people of whom the govern- 
ment wanted to be rid. The plan of the insurgents had 
"been, as I understand it, to murder Captain-General 
Blanco on September 15th, and seize the town and 
citadel on the day of his funeral. But the old Spanish 
fox was ahead of them as usual, and soon — ” 

“Was B — Bully Gordon among the ar — arrested?” 
There is a little shake in my voice. 

“Blow me if I know. This has all happened in a 
devil of a hurry, in the last twelve hours, and the town 
is full of rumors. Of course, as a British official I 
don’t mix myself prominently in these matters, but 
you’ll doubtless hear more about it up at the Club.” 

“ What’s Blanco going to do with the insurgents ? ” 
I ask, a little gasp in my throat. 


JACK CURZON. 


69 

“What does a Spanish court-martial always do with 
insurgents?’' remarks the young Briton. “ Though I 
believe the Captain-General, ammunition being a little 
short, intends to banish most of 'em to the Caroline 
Islands or some other place where they will conveni- 
ently die by fever or pestilence." 

“ Are you sure of your information ? " I falter. 

“ Oh, certain. Look at the troops around the custom 
house. You can see something’s going on. Blanco’s 
making it warm for the Katipunan. By Jove, this 
news seems to have upset you, Curzon, old boy. You 
look quite seedy," remarks the young man as our boat 
runs up to the quay on the Pasig. 

“Yes, I’ve not got over my — my sea sickness ! I'm 
— I’m rather top heavy yet," I contrive to return. For 
looking at the frowning bastions and walls of old 
Manila on the bank of the river, and the patrolling 
Spanish troops with their light uniforms, bronzed faces 
and glittering Mauser rifles, an attack of shivering, 
ague seems to strike me as I remember that I, too 
am now a Katipunan f 

As I step up thb granite steps to the custom house 
and struggle through Tagal boys anxious to handle my 
baggage or call a carrojnata or get an order for my 
washing, immediate evidence of military alertness 
comes to me. The Spanish officials about the quay, 
lounging upon their cane rocking-chairs, smoke their 
cigarettes in an impressive, savage, vindictive kind of 
way, I think. 

Though I am well known and my passport is visaed 
by the Spanish Consul at Hong Kong, I find it very 
closely scrutinized. 

Consequently after getting through the official rig- 
marole necessary to my advent on shore, I find it is 
nearly five o'clock and siestas are about over. So, or- 
dering my luggage sent to the uptown house of the 
English Club, I spring into a carromata and direct the 
driver to take me to the villa of Senor Silas Gordon 
in the San Miguel suburb. The promise of an addi- 
tional real makes the Jehu whip his two, thick-hided, 
whalebone ponies into their best gait. 

The city streets, as I pass through them, give no 
evidence of the political volcano whose fires are just 
beginning to burst forth. There is the same crowd of 


JACK CURZON. 


70 

pony-drawn carriages on the Puente de Espana. The 
Escolta’s shops and cafes are just as brilliant as when 
1 left them. The old women selling betel-nuts, cigars 
and chow are as noisy ; the crowd of greasy coolies 
drawing carts is as active and as numerous ; the Chi- 
nese jabber their pigeon patois as continuously ; the 
Mestizos, ladies and gentlemen, seem as vivaciously 
merry as if some hundred of their kindred were not 
even now in the dungeons of the citadel, or being 
marched in captivity through the streets of their capital 
to meet vindictive military justice. The Spanish office 
holders are as suavely gracious, and smoke their cigar- 
ettes as unconcernedly as if Blanco had not struck his 
blow. 

“The sure proof of a despotic government,” I medi- 
tate, “the relatives of those who are incomunicado 
fear to show concern at their fate. Their oppressors 
do not wish, by their demeanor, to give to a sup- 
pressed emeute the dignity of an insurrection.” 

Leaving the business part of the city, I soon find 
myself ’mid the bungalows of the suburbs, speeding 
under the green of the feathery bamboo and beneath 
rows of great arholsde fuego, whose masses of flaming 
red blossoms look, under the sunlight, like the burning 
leaves of the fire-tree of Wolfstram. 

In some twenty minutes I am driven into the court- 
yard of Gordon’s magnificent villa, and spring out 
amid surrounding banana and orange trees, my mind 
intent upon my charming sweetheart, from whose 
kisses I have been divorced for four weary months. 

I emit a sigh of relief as I find the place looks natural, 
inhabited and unconfiscated —with a vengeance. From 
the music up-stairs, a fete is evidently in progress. 
One or two carriages of Spanish officials and rich Mes- 
tizos, some carromatas of English clerks drawn by 
sturdy Philippine ponies, encumber the courtyard. I 
note from the liveries that one or two high officials 
must be present, and grimly comment to myself upon 
the unwonted popularity of old Don Silas with Spanish 
dignitaries. 

A Tagal boy with wondrous promptitude answers 
my fourth summons, and says : “The ladies are re- 
ceiving.” 

Two seconds after, I run up the big stairway to the 


JACK CURZON. 


71 


second story of Bully Gordon’s villa, for like all Fili- 
pinos, the family live upon the floor above, the lower 
one being used for stables, house-servants, coolies, 
etc. Here in the magnificent ciada or hall, which is a 
mass of Japanese decoration ; Satsuma vases, Cloisonnd 
wares and Damio’s swords being tinted by the soft 
light of the concha windows, I find Zima, a Negrita, 
the maid of my sweetheart, who, of course, knows me 
very well. 

Fortunately the big hall is unoccupied, though the 
noise coming from the large reception-room at the 
right indicates it is crowded. Into Zima’s hand I 
press a big round silver dollar, and hurriedly ask : 
“ How are the ladies and their father.? ” 

To this she answers: “All happy; all joyous. 
Senorita Ysabel come like a festin.’' 

“Very well,” I whisper. “Just get word to Mazie 
that I am here alone in the hall.” 

“Ay, por Dios, I understand, Don Juan,” and the 
eyes of Zima, who is black as a jet statuette, only 
four feet six inches in height, flash like two electric 
carbons. 

In a second she has glided from me, and the next 
moment I give a sigh of relief and joy ; two 
rounded arms are thrown about my neck, and secluded 
by a Japanese screen I receive the sweetest of kisses 
from my betrothed ; for though the duenna, Senora 
Yalrigo, has followed her charge, on seeing me she 
has given a kindly bow and retired, abstractedly roll- 
ing up and lighting one of her omnipresent cigarettes. 

Santos, you’re the unexpected. Jack!” my sweet- 
heart whispers. “ Maud when she arrived drove me 
to despair by saying you had no thought of leaving 
Hong Kong for a long month. What has brought 
you to me so suddenly ? ” There is a tinge of anxiety 
in Mazie’s face. 

“You ! ” I whisper. 

The anxiety changes to joy. “Z>zbs,” whispers the 
girl, “how glad you will make us all.” 

“Everybody’s well.?” I ask eagerly. 

“Oh, yes, papa seemed a little shocked by Maud’s 
sudden return ; the joy of meeting her was so great. 
You see Ysabel has changed so.” 

“How?” 


72 


JACK CURZON. 


“She went away a simple Filipina ; she comes back 
a lady of the great world and — such a flirt. When she 
drove on i\ie.Luneia last afternoon two Spanish generals 
and ten colonels doffed their caps to her. She has as 
many admirers as if she were a countess from Madrid ; 
such airs, such graces, I am in the shadow. But I 
can beat her in music,” laughs my sweetheart. San- 
tissima, there's nothing like us Filipinos for music. 
Even Maud admits that the artillery band on the 
Luneia plays a little better than Senor Seidfls orchestra. 
And I know she is right, for our Filipino boys put 
their souls as well as their bodies into Verdi and Doni- 
zetti and Wagner. Have you ever heard our grand 
artist of the artillery band on the bass-drum ? Who 
can whack pig-skins into pathos like he.-* Tears fly 
into my eyes at his every thump in Chopin’s funeral 
march or the Death of Seigfried. But Dios mio, Jack, 
how can I talk to you when you kiss me so much. 
Step into the salon. Maud is astounding a number 
of our friends who have come to be fascinated by the 
foreign airs my sister has imported. ” 

“Ah, she has a concourse ? ” 

“Well, yes. Old Don Rafadl Lozado, Corregi- 
dor of Nueva Ecija is here. He has come to Manila. 
Papa isn’t pleased at that. Also Padre de Laviga ; 
likewise two or three young Englishmen, and Maud’s 
old friend, Herr Adolph Ludenbaum. She is playing 
the queen amongst them, ” says Mazie proudly. ‘ ‘ Come 
in. You shall have hunuelos, tea, chocolate, dulces 
and, of course, cigarettes and cigarrosP 

I am eager to see my fair charge of Hong Kong, and 
rather anxious to put eyes upon Padre de Laviga, who 
I believe is Mazie’s confessor, and whom she some- 
times calls the Cura ; likewise to see the Corregidor of 
Nueva Ecija, who, I have heard mentioned, is equal 
rascal to any Spanish official in the Philippines. 

Therefore, following Mazie I step into a typical Fili- 
pino gathering, mixed with the hidalgos and military 
exquisites from the Old Town of Manila which rep- 
resents Spanish supremacy. 

The concha windows of the big reception room are 
thrown open and blinds drawn up. The breeze from 
the Pasig comes floating in through palms and sweet 
smelling flowers into an apartment whose wooden 


JACK CURZON. 


73 


floor is as hard as iron, glistening as ivory and slip- 
pery as glass. Light cane seats, chiefly rocking chairs, 
and bamboo tables are mixed with hardwood cabinets 
and covered with Eastern ornaments and lots of 
plants ; an image of the Virgin Mary and pictures of 
various saints and martyrs decorate the high walls ; 
though these are leavened by a portfolio of magni- 
ficent photographs, mostly of streets of New York 
City, these the elder sister has apparently brought 
with her from America as I have never seen them in 
the room before. 

Tw'o or three musical instruments are thrown care- 
lessly about on chairs and couches, a violin, a guitar, 
a banjo ; a grand piano stands in a corner of the room, 
a harp in another. 

Backgrounded by this last romantic instrument and 
a palm tree, Senorita Maud garbed in some summer 
dress from American modiste, from which her white 
arms and shoulders gleam like ivory, is playing the 
fine lady a V Americaine and doing the grand fan act i 
la Filipina for the benefit of a gentleman to whom I 
am introduced as Don Rafael Lozado, the Corregidor 
of Nueva Ecija. As 1 greet him, I note his age is sixty. 
He has the airs of a senile Don Cesar, the beard of a 
Duke of Alva, and the heart, I imagine, of Sancho the 
Cruel ; though this is covered up by a suit of immac- 
ulate white drill, cut tropic fashion, garnished with 
patent-leather boots and a flaming Solferino necktie.^ 

This gentleman on our entrance, leaves the Senorita 
Maud and turns his attention to my affianced, seating 
himself placidly beside her and indulging in a hunuelo 
and chocolate as he smokes his cigarette and gazes 
upon my darling who is looking like a bird of Paradise 
in a frock of imported muslin with some feather effects 
that her sister has brought to her from New York. 

The others of the company I note are the general 
run of Manila society, rich Mestizos of the upper class, 
struggling European clerks who squander all their 
salaries in living like princes at the English Club, old 
Ludenbaum who, in what is considered the worst of 
taste in the Philippines, smokes a meerschaum pipe, 
and the ecclesiastic who is the confessor of my sweet- 
heart, a man I am prepared to hate, for I think he 
Stands in the way of my happiness ; though I am 


74 


JACK CURZON. 


agreeably astonished in his appearance. For though 
austerely clerical, garbed in his church vestments, 
Padre Jose de Laviga has a face that seems to me soft 
and kindly ; his eyes anyway are that, albeit at times 
they light up with the fire of monasticism. 

I have scarce made my bow when Senorita Maud, 
extending her hand American fashion, whispers : 
“Welcome to Manila,” then laughs uneasily: Is 

hemp going up that you, Senor Jack, have come so hur- 
riedly here to buy a cargo or two ? ” 

“Yes,” I reply carelessly. “In Hong Kong we 
think your troubles may make a short crop.” 

Dios ! never talk politics to a lady,” laughs the girl 
and taps me with her fan. Then assuming a lightness, 
to which her eyes once or twice give the lie, she picks up 
the banjo, and cries: “Inspect this novel instrument I 
brought from America. You like coon-songs, I am 
told, at the English Club, Mr. Bob Partridge, and you, 
I believe, adore them on the mandolin, Senors Antonio 
Florez and Roderigo Cabalo. Listen to this ! You 
have never heard this one before. It came out just as 
I left New York.” And she commences to sing, ac- 
companying herself very prettily on the banjo, “ Loui- 
siana Lou.” 

While the bulk of the company gather about Senorita 
Maud and go into raptures over her song, I drift into a 
conversation with the ecclesiastic who asks me the 
current news at Hong Kong, and if any late advices 
have come from Cuba, and also, this last I think with 
perhaps greater interest, if my stay in Manila will be a 
long one. 

This I parry with : “Who can tell the exigencies of 
commerce ? ” 

While this conversation is running along, my eyes 
have not left my darling sweetheart, who, dressed in 
European style, looks as pretty as a canary bird, 
though I think Mazie was even more beautiful in the 
\ig\i\. pina garments she used to wear when I first 
knew her. Gazing on this, I notice that Don Rafadl, 
the old Spanish official seems equally interested, and 
in a way I don’t like. For his eyes light up in a prop- 
rietary, Don Juan way, as he inspects the vivacious 
loveliness of my affianced who is asking him about her 
old home under the great Montes de Baler, and ques- 


JACK CURZON. 


75 


tioning him if old Senora Goozeman still insists upon 
her husband sitting upon the duck eggs and helping 
the ducks incubate them ; if Pedro, the hunter, kills as 
many wild buffalo and deer as he used to ; if the big 
snake in the swamp that used to frighten everybody 
has come to an untimely ending ; is Carranglan up in 
the mountains as wild as when she was a little girl ; 
how the village band of Jaen is progressing ; has Zumy 
succeeded in making a new trombone out of kerosene 
cans? is Ponto yet married toTema ? and all the other 
local gossip of a typical Filipino village. 

But this is broken in upon by a strange exhibition 
of Mestizo musical ability and mercurial temperament. 
Senorita Maud has just finished her song to the bravas of 
the surrounding men, Herr Ludenbaum being the most 
uproarious of the lot, when young Senor Cabalo of 
Imus, whose sugar-cane has made him rich, cries out 
suddenly: “The banjo! Pha 1 It is an easy thing; 
I can play it at sight. Permit me ! " 

Bowing before the young lady he takes the instrument 
from her hands, and receiving two or three hints as to 
the register and tuning of the instrument, he cries out : 
“Behold me I " and wdthout more ado goes about the 
room playing the banjo with as much ease as if he 
had been born on a Louisiana plantation or was a 
member of Christy's mins-trels ; then breaking into “II 
Bacio ” he dances round the room singing the air and 
thumbing the strings and kicking his little patent- 
leathers over the furniture like a can-can artist. 

“They’re a curious race,” mutters Jim Barton, one 
of the only four Americans in town, the representative 
of Perham & Co. of Boston in my ear. “ Here are two 
girls who are laughing and chatting with us, and God 
knows what may happen to their father now this 
trouble has broken out, and there is that ape Cabalo 
dancing about the room when his uncle was put inco- 
municado to-day in the citadel. Hang me, if I can 
make them out 1 ” 

“Yes,” I reply grimly, “they dance just as lightly 
in their villages at the foot of blazing Mayon, which 
never cease trembling, and where they are always in 
danger of being burnt alive. They’re a curious crowd. ” 

Evidences of this come to me even more strongly, 
for they all get so very merry and melodious that I 


JACK CURZON. 


76 

think I am in a conservatory of music. One young 
fellow goes to playing the harp ; another picks up the 
guitar, and a third proves himself a maestro of the 
violin. 

Mazie, anxious, I think, to get away from the atten- 
tions of Don Rafael, throws herself upon the piano 
stool, and attacks that instrument, and Maud makes a 
pretty picture with the harp. Then after a moment 
young Cabalo cries, striking his banjo a la musical 
director: “Now all together! Li Hung Chang 
march ! Presto! Forte !" 

And they all break out with tremendous impress- 
ment into that most popular Chinese melody of the Phil- 
ippines, and go marching about like an opera bouffe 
chorus, young Senor Cortez improvising a triangle 
from two Japanese wire ornaments, and Senor Alphonso 
del Monte producing gong and drum effects from a 
couple of pieces of Chinese armor that he grinds to- 
gether, and his fist with which he pounds a heavy 
table. A boy of sixteen of languid air and girlish face, 
little Pablo Runildo, with childish carelessness and 
artistic eye breaks off all the growing flowers in the 
room and tosses them over the fantastic crowd with 
tropic grace. 

So they all get merrier and merrier until finally young 
Cabalo, who, despite his uncle’s jeopardy seems to be 
the most light-hearted and light-headed of the lot, 
sends them all into an ecstacy of laughter by playing 
a violin solo, holding the instrument like a ’cello and 
thumping out an accompaniment on the piano with 
his nose, which he uses in a vivacious comic way that 
would make the fortune of a French musical clown. 

But soon, like children wearying of their sport, the 
young men go to smoking cigarettes again very 
placidly, and finally the whole concourse of them take 
their leave, the Caballeros whispering to their young 
hostesses about coming festivities ; that there is to be 
an opera in the winter, and many balls. Thus they go off 
to their horned in this city as if there was no political 
volcano whose outbreak might destroy them ; dear, 
fascinating, brave, merry, little Filipinos : a race with 
man’s muscle, but woman’s nature, brave as women ; 
impulsive as women ; vindictive as woman ; fickle as 
women ; who love like women, hate like women, and 


JACK CURZON. 77 

figfht like men ; who are sometimes fierce as devils 
and at others tender as nursery rhymes. 

The drifting out of these children of passion is soon 
followed by the older and more sedate members of the 
company. Don Rafael hints he has some business 
with the Captain-General, and smoking a cigarette 
goes upon his way, though I note he lingers over 
Mazie’s little hand, and, curse him, gives it two roman- 
tic yet tremulous kisses. The Padre, blessing the 
young ladies, takes his departure contemplatively 
waving his cane and smoking his cigar. 

Old Ludenbaum would probably remain did I not 
suggest to him that the steamer on which I came has 
brought some mail for him from Hong Hong. He 
has a German’s devotion to business, but seems loathe 
to leave the beautiful young lady who has come from 
New York, fondling her hand till she pulls it away, 
and murmuring with friend-of-the-family familiarity : 
“ I haven't seen you much, Maud, but you remember 
der old times. Ah, mein little fraulein hasn’t forgotten 
Papa Ludenbaum ? ” 

Apparently Maud has not forgotten Papa Luden- 
baum ; for her face is as pale as a lily as she mutters : 
“Oh, no, I remember.” 

“But don't be afraid, little Gretchen, Don Rafael and 
I will take care of you,” mutters this gentleman, and 
with this ambiguous remark, takes his way to his offices 
on the Plaza de Cervantes. 

Respecting the convenances of Spanish life, I would 
probably take my leave with him, did not Senorita 
Maud even as I offer her my hand, seize it appealingly 
in her delicate fingers and press it in a way that indi- 
cates she wants another word with me. 

Perchance noting this, Mazie looks a little piqued, 
but says half laughingly: “I know you hurried to 
Manila to see Maud, Senor Jack. You were not com- 
ing for a month. You beheld her, and diantre, you are 
here by the next steamer! Maud has added to her 
Filipina graces the cultivation of another and more 
foreign talent ; a little of the flirt, eh } Ah, she o’er- 
shadows me. ” 

“Not in my eyes,” I mutter, and give the dear girl 
a couple of kisses behind the Japanese screen. ' ‘ Still I 
want to see her for a moment.” 


78 


JACK CURZGN. 


^*Cierto, in that case, Senor Jack, you shall have her 
ear. You already have her eyes,” says Mazie pouting, 
for her sister is looking at me in an eager anxious way. 
With this she leaves me a little astounded, for my 
sweetheart has a tear in her eye. 

But I have scarce time to think of this before Se- 
norita Ysab^l is at my side. I look about and note we 
are alone. Senora Valrigo is fanning herself languidly 
on the balcony. “Only a few words,” whispers the 
girl, a ripple of anxiety running over her mobile face. 
“Do me this favor. Contrive this evening to step into 
Hen Chick’s place of business on the Rosario — you can 
find it easily — and just tell that dear old Chinaman 
that Senorita Maud Ysabel Gordon has smoked the last 
of his cigarettes. Be careful — the last of his cigarettes ! ” 

“What do you mean? ” 

“That I shall not tell you,” she whispers. “But, 
Senor Curzon, go back to Hong Kong. ” 

“ Never, without her ! ” I am looking at her sister 
who is tapping her fair hand with her fan impatiently, 
as she watches us from a distant sofa. 

“I think it will be now impossible for you to take 
Mazie with you,” Maud says, and gives a little shudder. 
“The infamous Corregidor has come down from 
Nueva Ecija.” 

“Be assured I shall never leave her. What the devil 
has the Corregidor to do with my sweetheart ? What 
does old Adolph Ludenbaum mean by asking you, if 
you remember?” 

Here a spasm of agony flies into Maud s eyes ; 
though she says bravely : “That also I shall not tell 
you for your safety, for that’s what it means. Leave 
us for your own welfare, Senor Englishman. We are 
a doomed family. But don’t fail to give my message. ” 

“Nonsense,” I whisper. “You’re not doomed. 
Mazie has a lover who will save her. So have you.” 

“Oh, my God, don’t talk of him, my far-away sailor 
boy ! ” mutters the girl, with a kind of dry sob in her 
voice. Turning from me she wrings her hands, and 
runs back through the hallway, while I, certainly im- 
pressed, though, thank God not crushed by her proph- 
ecy of doom, stroll out into the garden to take my 
way to the English Club to pick up what other news I 
can gather of Blanco and the Society de Filipinos. 


JACK CURZON. 


79 


But in the courtyard I am not made more easy by 
the words of the father of the family. Almost at the 
entrance under a big fire-tree I meet old Don Silas. 
He has just returned from the town and apparently, has 
been drinking, as his eyes are blood-shot, and his voice 
a little thick. He glares at me savagely, and says : 
“So you didn’t keep my one lamb out of the fire, eh, 
my Englishman?” then implores; “Why in the 
name of God didn’t you hold her in Hong Kong when 
you got my cablegram ? ” 

“Your cablegram came too late — one day too late.” 

“Ah, detained by the damned infernal censor, by 
Heaven!” mutters the old sea-captain. “By old 
Ironsides I It will be yard-arm to yard-arm this time. 
I knew it ever since that infernal scoundrel Don Rafael 
came down. He knew this cursed Filipino rumpus 
was going to take place. This is the Spanish officials’ 
grand chance to do up any one against whom they 
have a grudge. They arrested old Tommy Collins, 
the American, last night because he had a claim against 
them for the destruction of his property and business in 
1874 ; and you mark me, before this political trouble is 
over, though I never heard of the damn society until 
a few weeks ago, I will be arrested and done to death 
as a Katipunan. Oh, they are going to make it warm 
for that brood here now. You’d better get out and 
leave a drowning man whom twenty life preservers 
wouldn’t save.” 

With this unpleasant suggestion he leaves me. 

And I stagger down the street under its arches of 
fire-trees with my brain as much ablaze as any flaming 
blossom as I remember with a sinking soul that /, too, 
am a Katipunan ! 


CHAPTER VII. 

THE WAR OF TORTURERS AGAINST DEMONS. 

My mind isn’t made more placid by seeing march 
past me a detachment of Spanish infantry escorting a 
cart in which two bound and manacled prisoners are 
lying. “ Probably some of my brothers of the Filipino 


8o 


JACK CURZON. 


Society," I shudder, and think of the Katipunan Sign 
upon my arm. ^ 

But I have got pretty well over shuddering when 1 
step into the English Club and find myself surrounded 
by old friends. As I half recline in one of the^ long 
cane chairs, a flopping punka cooling me off, in the 
familiar reading-room and look out over the placid 
waters of the Pasig * that flows languidly past our 
broad veranda, gazing lazily at a raft- of cocoanuts that 
is floating down from Laguna de Bayo, I stiffen my 
nerves with a stingah and listen to the gossip about me 
with a tolerably regular pulse, though the news I hear 
isn’t of a reassuring nature. 

“By Jove, Curzon, we’ve been having it lively in 
the last twenty-four hours ; martial law, pickets in 
every suburb, patrols and sentries as regular as meals. 
Don Ramon Blanco has his eyes open,’’ remarks Harry 
Poston of Bellington & Co. of Singapore, Tokio and 
Nagasaki. 

‘ ‘ Y aas ; they — ah — say that they are going to raise the 
— ah — drawbridges to the Old Town every night ; some- 
thing the Dons haven’t done since 1852. Read up in 
Philippine history on my way out, don’t yerknow, me 
boys,’’ drawls young Sammy Burlop who has been 
sent from London with his accent, to sow his wild 
commercial oats as far away from his father’s bank 
in Bishopsgate as possible. 

“ Hang it ! Some'onesays the city lights are to be 
put out at twelve o’clock every bl-blessed night. It’ll 
be bl-blooming inconvenient to me,’’ stammers old 
Portman, who never goes home drunk before 2 a. m., 
though he commences to imbibe very early every day. 

“Well, I shouldn’t wonder if passes or something 
of that kind were demanded,’’ adds little Simpson, 
w’ho has just seated himself beside me. ^‘Affairs are 
getting mighty serious.” 

Here another little piece of gossip comes to me. 
Harold Burton of Jarvis & Co. of Hong Kong, Canton, 
and Cebu comes in and laughs: “By Jove, after all 
it wasn’t Roxas’ wife betrayed the Filipinos.” 

“No! — who ? I ask.’’ « 

“Why it was a sister of one of the printers 


* The English Club has since removed to Ermita. — E d. 


JACK CURZON. 


8l 


of the Rebel proclamation ; she blabbed it to old Gil, 
the padre of the Tondo and he made a clean breast of 
it to Blanco. So we can believe in conjugal fidelity 
once more," laughs the Englishman. 

These remarks reminding me of the urgency of 
Maud’s errand, I rise up, step down to the river and 
taking a banca for coolness, am rowed down the Pasig, 
inspecting its pretty reaches, to make my landing at 
the Puente de Espana. 

Elbowing my way through a crowd of Mestizos and 
Tagals, who, from the crowing of one or two roosters 
they carry, are apparently bound for a cock-fight in the 
Tondo, I soon am treading the Rosario, which, like the 
Tai-ping-shan of Hong Kong, is Chinese in character. 

A little inquiry takes me to the main store of Hen 
Chick &Co., the old gentleman owning almost a dozen 
bazars upon this avenue of Oriental trade. 

Upon my entry I find it like the usual Chinese on 
one side samples of merchandise in limited quantities, 
a counter on the other, at which sits the inevitable 
Mongolian book-keeper with his abacus or counting 
frame, upon whose wires with his long, nailed finger 
he is abstractly moving the clicking buttons to and fro. 
Two or three Chinamen are seated at one side on a 
teakwood bench, jabbering in their Celestial language. 
The whole place has of course, the usual odor 
of opium, burnt punk, dried cats, etc. 

I am already prepared with my story, and ask to see 
Hen Chick, mentioning a cargo of tea in which I think 
he is interested. 

To my dismay the Chinese accountant stops his un- 
ending clicking of his buttons and giving me an 
almond-eyed smile, says placidly in pigeon English : 
‘‘ Hen Chick, him go away.’* 

“Where.?" 

“Lis morning, to Hong Kong. Him take um 
steamer. Him son. Ah Khy ; him belly ill." 

“Ah Khy ! " I gasp astounded. 

“Yes, letter from Hong Kong come. Ah Khy him 
belly, belly ill," jabbers the Chinaman. “You sabd 
Ah Khy ? " 

“Yes, I sabe Ah Khy," I stammer. 

And I do sabd Ah Khy ; for knowing that young 
Chinaman is in excellent health, I quickly divine that 
6 


82 


JACK CURZON. 


Hen Chick actuated by Chinese prudence has left 
Manila for the safer atmosphere of Hong Kong 

But this is no place to discuss the matter. A mo- 
ment’s reflection tells me that Senorita Maud has lost 
whatever aid, benefit or advice she expected from my 
carrying this information to the Chinese merchant, and 
should know at once about this. 

So with a muttered remark about writing to Hen 
Chick as to the tea, and taking the precaution to obtain 
his Hong Kong address in case I shall need it for other 
purposes, I step out upon the Rosario, and walking 
along it, soon find myself on the Escolta, brilliantly 
lighted with electric lamps, though three or four years 
before it had been much dimmer under the illumina- 
tion of kerosene. 

Here catching a carromata I am rapidly driven to 
San Miguel, and entering Senor Gordon’s house with 
the informality of an intimate, find the two young ladies 
alone, both now making very pretty samples of Filipina 
beauty. 

Apparently not expecting general company, they are 
robed in the fashion of their native island. Gauzy 
white — shall I say it t Yes, I will ! — chemisettes dis- 
play in a kind of exquisite abandon the beauty lines of 
their charming figures. Panuelos of the finest pinawQh, 
looking in their varying colors almost like rainbows, 
are draped about their white necks making dainty little 
points at their backs. Drawn over the dimpled shoulders 
of the girls these are pinned by jeweled brooches 
upon their rounded busts. The sleeves of their chemis- 
ettes coming out from under these, reaching scarce to 
their elbows, show two pair of admirably molded 
snowy arms, and four as pretty little hands as ever 
were squeezed by ardent suitor. Maud’s brown locks 
are banded about her brows and stabbed into place by 
a long jeweled pin she has apparently brought from 
New York. Mazie’s, however, gathered about her head 
Filipina fashion, are held there by a little jeweled comb, 
except one wavy curl that falls coquettishly just upon 
her little ear that is pink as a Visaya shell. Flowing 
skirts of white ptna cloth drape their graceful forms from 
their lithe waists down to their little feet that peep out 
from the gauzy fabrics, poked into the coquettish slippers 
that they call chinelas ; though, at variance with the 


JACK CURZON. 


83 


general fashion of the island which decrees the pretty- 
little' bare toes should be en evidence, the young ladies 
wear light, gleaming, silken stockings. 

Dios mio I I am so glad you came, Jack,'' cries 
Mazie running to me. “ I know you always like me 
best d la Filipina,” and child of nature that she is, she 
gives a graceful pirouette. 

“Yes, but you’re hardly up to the mark.” 

“Pooh ! these costumes are as fine as any on the 
island. This pina cloth cost several bales of to- 
bacco.” 

“Ah, yes, but still not up to true Filipina form,” I 
say laughingly. “You wear stockings.” 

“ Cielol of course we do. You don’t suppose Maud, 
after bringing four dozen pairs from New York and 
paying duty on them, wouldn't let people see them. 
Aquil what do you think of mine ? ” and the child 
of nature gives me a glimpse of an ankle that sets my 
heart beating. 

“Ay, Ay ! I see by your face you think I look very 
well. And now that I have given dear old Valrigo a 
bunuelo, a chocolate and fifty cigarettes, she is going to 
be good and retired the whole evening. We will have a 
quiet, soft, lover’s night of it, eh mi querido P ” 

But we don’t have a quiet soft lover’s night of it. 

While I am being welcomed by my fiancee, her sister 
has stepped towards me, a question in her face. Maud 
knows I have come to tell her something, and asks 
hurriedly: “You have a message for me, Senor 
Curzon .? ” 

“Yes,” I answer; then turning to Mazie say: 
“Just give me a word or two with your sister my 
dear.” 

“ Ah, you have a secret P” My affianced’s eyes blaze 
up in a rather haughty manner. 

“ Well not much of a one ; but something I want to 
say to Senorita Maud's ears ; it will only take one mo- 
ment.” 

Dios, if it is such a secret I’ll turn my back ! ” cries 
my darling, and pouting divinely she marches to the 
other end of the room and commences to pound a 
delicate waltz out of the piano in a way that I must 
know jars upon her artistic instincts, while I hold 
hurried conference with Senorita Gordon, 


84 


JACK CURZQN. 


“You delivered my message?” asks the girl 
eagerly. 

“No.” 

**Madre de Dios .'” Her lips are white. 

“Yes, I am sorry to tell you Hen Chick, the China- 
man, left for Hong Kong this morning.” 

As I speak an expression of startled concern flies 
over the girl’s face. “Ah, Hen Chick feared that his 
evidence might be called for by the Supreme Court of 
Manila. He — tell me all about it.” 

And I give her the details. 

^*Caspitaf” she says sneeringly, “it is so easy to 
frighten a Chinese merchant.^’ Then she mutters ; 
“ But he is wise ; you should also go away.” 

“Not till I take your sister with me. Not till I take 
you to your sailor boy.” 

‘ ‘ Oh, madre de mi alma, don’t talk of him to me 
now ! ” she begs ; then astounds me by muttering : 
“Sometimes I think I should tear his picture up.” 
She points to the framed photograph of a handsome 
face and stalwart figure in the naval uniform of the 
United States, which stands upon a nearby cabinet ; 
next horrifies me by shuddering : “ I had no right to take 
his love. Holy Virgin, if my gallant Phil were but a 
dream. Oh, if I could make him forget me. If — oh 
no, not that. I couldn’t lose his love and live ! ” then 
whispers hoarsely to me : “Look on his face well, so 
that you may know whom to tell of a sweetheart 
whose soul has gone down in despair. ” 

“You fear something immediately?” I ask with 
white lips, for her manner frightens me. 

“ Oh, no, not immediately.” Her tones have grown 
calmer. “The demise of our family will be like a case 
of jungle fever, with its fluctuating symptoms. You 
will see it run its course, but I think it will be fatal.” 

I would ask her to be more explicit, but she waves 
me away and says half laughingly : Buenas noches ; 
don’t fail to see us on the Luneta to-morrow. We want 
lots of beaux to bow to our carriage. Mazie will be 
there. Now run and kiss your sweetheart, caballero. 
You may not get so many more of them as you think.” 
This last uncanny suggestion is a sigh. 

A moment later I am by the side of Mazie, and find 
that Maud’s prophecy is unfortunately true. I don’t 


JACK CURZON. 


85 

get so many kisses as I think. My piquant dar- 
ling has stopped thumping the dickens out of the piano, 
and taken to doing something she knows that I detest : 
that is, smoking a dainty little cigarette. Her manner 
seems different to what it has been to me. Her 
glance is haughty ; her coral lips, through which she 
puffs the smoke in graceful rings, curl in defiance. 

“Mazie, ”1 say, reproachfully, “you know I don't 
approve the cigarette habit in women." 

“Z?fos mio," she laughs, “ why do all you Europeans 
hate to see my sex enjoy what you love so much ? 
You selfish creatures, are you afraid if we smoke as 
diligently as you, it will raise the price of cigars ? 
Diantre, they're cheap enough here ! " she sneers. 

“ Mazie," I say in my sternest manner, “ if you do 
not immediately put that cigarette away, I shall not 
kiss you." 

This had always before brought my sweetheart to 
terms. I expect to see the cigarello fly out of the open 
window ; but it goes into her little mouth. 

She takes another puff, then sneers : “ It is perhaps 
well that you don’t. That will save me another sin to 
confess to the padre.'' 

“You do not mean," I whisper, astounded, “that 
you tell your father confessor every time I kiss you ? " 

“I used not to; that would have taken too long — 
in those happy days," she says contemplatively, and 
tears gather in her eyes. “But still it has been told 
me that kissing a gentleman is a sin in the eyes of the 
Church.” 

“Not the man you love; not the man you are to 
marry ! ” 

“Oh, I have been told that I am not io marry you 
until you become what I am afraid you never will be." 

“Oh," I reply glumly, “is that your reason for 
smoking a cigarette } " 

“ No, I love it.” 

“Then you do not wish me to kiss you .? " 

“No, there are other young ladies now in Manila, 
who do not smoke cigarettes, who say they have given 
up the awful habit ; who have learnt their proprieties 
as well as their airs nnd graces in a foreign land." 

With this indignant speech, my darling bursts out 
crying as if her heart would break. When a fellow is 


86 


JACK CURZON. 


on fire with love and his affianced is sobbing on his 
shoulder, and the duenna is smoking out on the 
veranda, what generally takes place. 

I look around. Maud has left the apartment, I kiss 
Mazie to good humor, and she becomes my dear little 
affectionate darling as of yore. 

Then I go away and stroll meditatively under the 
palms and bamboos towards the English Club, for 
somehow or other a faint suspicion that my little 
sweetheart is becoming jealous has drifted into my 
mind. But I throw this away, muttering: “Good 
God, jealous of her sister, because we have a political 
secret together, Mazie knowing that Maud is devoted 
to that handsome young fellow of the cabinet picture ! 
It’s impossible ! ” 

But I don’t know the curiosities of a woman’s heart 
when she is a child of the tropics as much as I will a 
little later. 

So things run along for a few days, I finding that 
the interests of my firm take a good deal of my time, 
commerce always being disturbed by insurrection. 
The rest of it I devote to Mazie, but all the while am 
making my arrangements very quietly to remove her 
and her sister from the island, if I can get their father 
sober enough to consent — for the ex-sea-captain, ap- 
parently impressed with coming evil, is drinking to 
drown his sorrow like a fish. 

Till on the evening of the thirtieth day of August, as 
usual, 1 am taking my way from the house of Don 
Silas towards the English Club, meditating upon my 
course of procedure. If Mazie will marry me, my 
commercial income is sufficient to support my affianced 
in comfort and ease in Hong Kong. I will offer a 
home to her sister so that in case their father’s property 
is confiscated and they lose everything in these Spanish 
islands, Maud will be free from danger and able to 
wed the young American naval officer. I know the 
girl loves him better than anything else in the world, 
and I feel that no false pride will make her hesitate to 
take the happiness of her life. 

But even as I cogitate, a sudden check comes to 
my plans. 

I mutter : “ Good Lord, what’s that ? ” For the 

sharp crackle of Mauser rifles comes in volleys floating 


JACK CURZON. 87 

on the still night air from the direction of one of the 
outlying suburbs of Manila. 

I stand and listen for a moment ; the noise is re- 
peated, then kept up continuously, the fusilade grow- 
ing heavier. I hear the rattle of tram-cars on the 
street parallel to mine, and see a whole procession of 
them, loaded down with Spanish infantry, driven as 
fast as the horses can be whipped. 

I make hurriedly to the English Club which is the 
center of news for me. A battery of artillery at full 
gallop flies past me, and I see the little Spanish gun- 
boat, the only one they have in the river for work 
above the bridges, come steaming up the Pasig under 
full head of steam, her men apparently at her guns. 

As I step into the Club, old Mandeville runs in be- 
fore me, crying: “Boys, we have got to fight also! 
The rebels are trying to rush this town ! 

“Why the deuce should we fight.?” remarks little 
Sammy Burlop, though he springs up with the rest of 
the company at these words. “It is only a row" be- 
tween — ah — Blanco and the Spaniards and those fel- 
lows, Aguinaldo, Santallano and their crowd.” 

“Why should we fight?” cries Mandeville, who is 
a veteran of the East Indies, and as a boy has seen 
the Sepoy mutiny in India. “Why shouldn’t we fight? 
First for our own lives ; next for the honor of the poor 
women and children here. You don’t know what 
Eastern fanatics are when they get steam on. I do. 

1 My God, I remember Meerut, Caw"npoor, and Luck- 
now. How’ll they know English or Germans from 
■ Spaniards in the dark ? What’ll they care anyhow — ” 

Into the group, breaks Jim Burrage shouting : “ My 
Heavens ! they’ve put out all the electric lights in the 
town.” 

I “They’re attacking the electric power house. 

\ Darkness ; that’s the first thing the rebs want ! ” cries 
^ Mandeville. 

But a moment after, little Simpson of the English 
; Consulate comes in and says : “The lights spring up 
1 blazing again. By George, the electrician may have 

I run awmy, but Blanco is holding the dynamos.” 

All this time the rattle of small arms is growing 
:: heavier, and now is punctuated by the sound of rapid- 
r fire guns and one or two field pieces. 


88 


JACK CURZON. 


But Mandeville’s suggestion is followed. Then and 
there, we form “the Foreign Company'’ that does 
yeoman service for three days in defending Manila 
agaii\st the first rush of the insurgents ; English, Ger- 
mans, French, and one or two Americans ; every 
foreigner who can carry a gun — except Don Silas 
Salem Gordon, who sits drinking his whisky in a 
gloomily savage manner and getting drunker and 
drunker. 

I go to him and beg him to give me a private word 
in my room at the English Club. “You have got to 
shoulder a gun with us ! ” Isay. '‘Curse it, old man, 
don't you see that your hanging off marks you as a 
sympathizer with Aguinaldo and his crew. Don't you 
think it will be noted by your enemies, the Spanish 
officials ? " 

“What the devil's the difference if it does ! " stam- 
mers the ex-sea-captain. “ They've marked me for a 
pigeon to be plucked and eaten long ago ; ever since I 
got those great tobacco lands. They're only waiting 
till the rebs give ’em quiet, to rob me of ’em. Why 
the devil should I help them crush out the Eilipinos, 
to be made their victim afterwards. They can't do 
more than kill me, can they ? " 

“They can confiscate your property and leave your 
daughters penniless.” 

“Yes; that would be kind o’ hard for the fellows 
marrying ’em,” says the old man savagely ; then goes 
jeeringly on : “But Maud will look after that. Maud, 
the Americano. I’ve read her citizenship papers.” 

“ But they may not do any good. Look at Collins, 
American born, what’s the American Consul done for 
him ? ” I suggest. 

“Nothen' ; but perhaps he’ll get a move on him in 
time if they don't butcher Collins first. The American 
Government, I am afraid, don’t want to rub Spain the 
wrong way ; scared the Spaniards ’ll lick 'em for fool- 
ing around Cuba, eh? They weren’t that kind of 
Yanks when I was reared in Mass’chusetts. The race 
must have sizzled out since I left Cape Cod, forty year 
ago.” And Gordon goes into an invective that a great 
many Americans were using at that time over an Ad- 
ministration which apparently didn’t care much for 
American rights in any part of the world. A disease 


JACK CURZON. 


89 


; prevailing in the government circles of the United 
States that, I believe, they now call in Yankee land 
“mugwumpism” and “professors’ mania” — effete 
brain troubles that come upon the senile and unpatri- 
i otic and make them think their country always wrong 
and the other country always right ; a malady that — 
thank God ! — has not as yet broken out in Britain. 

Then the poor old wretch sobs in a kind of drunken 
pathos: “But what right have I to pitch into the 
American eagle ; I who di — divorced m — m — myself 
from the bird of freedom for a lot of damned Spanish 
lands of which those sons of guns are a-going to rob 
; me,” and weeps maudlin tears, calling himself a traitor 
; to his native land ; then horrifies me by whispering : 
“ Hang it, you’ve got my answer ! By Heaven, if it 
wasn’t for my darters I’d bare my breast and fight 
for the Filipinos. Blow my eyes, the people here 
have got wrongs enough to make ’em raid this hole 
and kill every living critter in it ! ” 

“What? With your daughters in this town ; these 
crazy Malay savages ! ” I gasp. 

“No, no; I don’t know what I am saying — and 
i yet — oh, don’t talk to me, I’m drunk ! ” And the 
skipper closes the unpleasant interview in a way that 
makes me know that even if he wanted to march in 
our ranks. Bully Gordon would require two or three 
days of soda water and abstinence before he could 
; do duty. 

Therefore with a sigh I leave him and march out 
^ with the “Foreign Company” to do the best I can 
[ against my brothers of the Filipino Society, I, who 
< have their brand upon my arm ; I, who have regis- 
. tered my oath in my own blood and that of Ata Tonga 
^ in Hong Kong. 

' And it is no play fighting these wiry little devils, 
i who, I think, don’t know what fear is — the most of 
I them. 

! But the Captain-General has too heavy a hand for 
I them at present. Reinforcements are brought from 
! Cebu and Iloilo by gunboats and at the end of three 
I days’ heavy fighting Don Ramon Blanco who all 
through this affair proves himself a ipaster of the art 
of war, succeeds in expelling Aguinaldo, Andrios, San- 
tallano and their followers from the outskirts of the 


90 


JACK CURZON. 


city. The fighting rolls back into the country, and 
Manila becomes outwardly quiet again — but what a 
quiet ! The quiet made by the wholesale arrests, con- 
fiscations and executions of bloodthirsty martial law. 

This drifts along for three months, the artillery band 
playing every other afternoon on the Luneta its softest 
melodies, while on the other days, in that great oval, 
unfortunate Mestizo suspects are stood up to receive 
the fire of an infantry platoon in military execution. 
For now the Spanish officials are hunting rebel sym- 
pathizers, and many who had hesitated to fight, die 
by the bullets of the firing party ; Dr. Rizal, the savant 
of the Manila University, who fled to Spain, being 
arrested at Barcelona, brought back, tried by court- 
martial, taken out of his bride’s arms, and shot on the 
Luneta, 

In December Blanco is thought too mild and mod- 
erate, and tenders his resignation. Polavieja, the com- 
mander of the Sixth Army Corps, succeeds him, and 
worse follows after bad. Three or four hundred of 
Manila’s citizens are exiled to the Carolines. Fernando 
Roxas with eighty-three other exiles are shot down by 
their guards on Mariana Island to which they have 
been banished. 

And all this time outside the city in the surrounding 
provinces is going on a combat of demons against tor- 
turers. The Spaniards recalling the methods of Tor- 
quemada in their prisons, extort confessions from cap- 
tured rebels by thumb-screws, dripping water and nails 
driven through the hands and feet of shuddering men 
and sobbing women.* Upon the fields of battle there 
is disemboweling, ham-stringing and butchery of the 
wounded after the fight is over. 

But the gentlemen of Spain have forgotten they are 
reckoning with Orientals who can give them points in 
the torture business, experts as they are. Aguinaldo, 
Santallano and their rebels, in reprisal, do work that 
makes the Spanish office holders shudder ; officers are 
tied to trees and tortured, and the wives and daughters 

♦The correspondence of the American newspapers, describing the 
Filipino Conference called by Aguinaldo in September 1898 states 
that quite a number of those present bear upon their bodies the scars 
of Spanish torture — See also Singapore Free Press August 28 
1892.— Ed. 


JACK CURZON. 


91 


of many a Hidalg-o are scourged, outraged and taken 
to grace Negrito huts. Likewise the insurgents do 
great work on friars and priests, of which there were a 
plenty in the Philippines, one Tagal chief going into 
the wholesale business and tying up to trees one hun- 
dred screaming Dominican monks. Then to the pa- 
dres’ clothes saturated with inflammable oils, torches are 
applied, and straightway a burning forest is echoing 
with Spanish shrieks and prayers and Latin Pater 
Hosiers more fervid than Churchmen ever set up before 
in chapel or cathedral. 

So these horrors run along, executions taking place 
in the Plaza Major and on the Luneta to inspire the 
populace of Manila wdth sickening terror ; one morning 
thirty lowly Filipino victims, Tagal boys, Negrito 
youths, gathered up in the suburbs of 7’ondo, Trozo 
and Santa Cruz ; the next day thirteen merchants, na- 
tive government officials, lawyers, doctors and pro- 
fessional men taken from the aristocratic villas and 
bungalows of San Miguel or the business marts of Bi- 
nondo, are shot dead amid the screams of their families. 

During this time the twelve thousand rebels at 
Cavitd, some fourteen miles to the south, have.become 
thirty thousand under Aguinaldo ; Santallano, the 
rebel chief of the North, and Esebro, the ex-village 
school-master, have, together, some ten thousand. And 
now to the astonishment and dismay of the Spanish, 
these insurgents who had fought them during three 
long and bloody months with the bolas, knives of the 
country, bamboo spears and bows and arrows, some 
of them poisoned like those of the Negritos, and can- 
non crudely molded from the bells of looted monas- 
teries and consumed churches, or made of iron water- 
pipes wrapped round with wire: like bombards of the 
Middle Ages, suddenly as if by magic become equipped 
with modern arms, repeating rifles, rapid-fire cannon 
and cartridges as deadly as their foes’; and the battles 
become more bloody and the combat more to the death 
even than before. 

And the question Polavieja and his astounded gen- 
erals now ask is : “ FROM WHERE DID THESE 
WEAPONS COME ? ” 


92 


JACK CURZON. 


CHAPTER VIII. 

EL CORREGIDOR. 

About this time Santallaiio the rebel chief of the 
north, capturing San Isidro, the war gets altogether too 
close to Nueva Ecija for its Corregidor to return to that 
province, where they are burning monasteries and 
slaughtering priests. So that official spends his time in 
Manila, a great deal of it at the house of Don Silas, who 
mutters in his drunken way: “By the boatswain's 
mate, the enemy is getting to love me, Senor Jackie." 

But I fear the enemy is getting to love my sweet- 
heart. For Don Rafaels sixty years seem to grow 
light upon him, and his eyes become bright and spark- 
ling as he gazes on Mazie’s pretty face and graceful 
figure in a way that makes me, when I think of it at 
night, tear the mosquito nettings of my bed and fire 
that long narrow pillow the Filipinos call jeeringly the 
“ embracer " to the other end of my chamber. 

For all this time my suit to Mazie, is growing, from a 
lover’s standpoint, worse and worse. I am compelled to 
consult with her sister on the plan that we have formed 
for the family safety ; for her father is drunk contin- 
uously, not the staggering reeling debauch, but what 
is called in Western America, I believe, loaded — loaded 
to the brim ; and somehow these interviews seem to 
make my darling tearful, though at times her eyes 
blaze through the drops like stars shining through a 
rainbow. 

For some unknown reason Mazie seems to think her 
sister, with her imported manners, has found greater 
favor in my eyes than she, the astute Machiavellian 
old Spaniard Don Rafael Lozado by his senile hints 
and chuckles adding to a jealousy that apparently will 
not down, though the girl, I believe, tries to conquer it ; 
and perchance would, did not the very exigencies of 
the case compel me at times to a few secret words with 
her elder sister, for I have hinted to Maud my plans of 
removing Mazie and her to Hong Kong. 


JACK CURZON. 


93 


This idea she has at first rejected, stating* it will 
surely be her father’s ruin — but latterly has grown more 
reconciled to it, I think, on account ofthe familiar atti- 
tude the German assumes to her. 

Though Herr Ludenbaum is very busy now — so 
busy that I sometimes wonder what the devil he is 
driving at — he spends most of his spare time, in the 
villa of his friend, the ex-American sea-captain, taking 
as it were a fatherly interest in Senorita Maud Ysabel, 
whose eyes seem to light up with a despairing flame 
as she looks upon this gentleman who will not be 
denied in his role of papa, and sits in her salon, quite 
often jeering in a ghoulish manner at the horrors that 
have come upon this unhappy city, apparently trying 
to impress the girl with fear at the vengeance the 
Spaniards are taking upon insurgents both active or 
suspected. 

“Mein leedle fraulein,” he says one day pathetic- 
ally, “ weep for poor papa whose heart is broken. 
Papa Ludenbaum was driving on the Luneta to-day, 
and Oh, mein Himmel vot sights he saw ! Dot fine man, 
dot man of great brain, dot gigantic intellect, dot 
Doctor Rizal, taken from his weeping bride’s arms, she 
had only been married to him dis morning, and shot 
like a bow-wow right through his mind. Donnerwetter ! 
der sargeant wid his gun gave him his coup de grace, 
and blew Rizal’s intellect all out of him. I have been 
to der bride, I mean der vidder, to sympathize wid her, 
but she will not be made reconciled. Mein Gott ! If 
dot Rizal vidder doesn’t stop shrieking out at the ty- 
ranny of our good Captain-General, if she doesn’t keep 
her mouth to herself a leetle more closed, there’s no 
telling what kind of a stopper der beneficent Polavieja 
may put upon it. I have heard tales vot takes place in 
der dungeons ober der,” he winks towards the citadel, 
“dot would make your curly hair stand on end like 
porcupines. 

“ Dey had a round hundred of de rebels in an under- 
ground place ober- der and dey couldn’t get wind 
enough and in one night most all of dem vas choked to 
dying. 

“Vhen I tinks of dot, mein fraulein, I tinks of your 
good father, mein poor friendt, Herr Captain Gordon^ 
vhat is running his head against derSpanish law about 


94 


JACK CURZON. 


dose tobacco lands. Summertimes I fear what may 
happen to him and to you, my poor Gretchen, if you 
don’t restrain dose savage exclamations, dose stamp- 
ings of der foots, vot you summertimes makes vhen I 
tells you of der tortures and executions. Summerday 
you vill cry out : ‘ Save me. Papa ! ’ und den poor old 
Ludenbaum vill have to run to his good friendt, der 
Corregidor, to keep your pretty leedle foots out of der 
shambles. But be not afraid, Don Rafael and I vill do 
it, sure as a chow-sh.o^ smells of garlic. ’’ 

This and other speeches of a similar nature wherein 
Ludenbaum relates unctuously of a Spanish general 
ordering his rebel prisoners shot in the legs so they 
couldn’t run away, and could be butchered comfort- 
ably and easily after the battle ; or when he tells of 
Rios setting fire to the woods of Santa Maria and 
burning two hundred surrounded insurgents in that 
fiery jungle, Senorita Maud receives with a kind of 
forced, stoical indifference, though at times under his 
blood-curdling words, which are emphasized with 
grotesque and hideous gestures and great rolling of 
his big eyes, her delicate face grows very white, 
and the graceful figure shudders from head to heel, 
not with fear for herself, but with sympathy for the 
victims. 

As forMazie, the poor little girl trembles and shrinks 
from the room whenever Papa Ludenbaum begins his 
pleasant war-time recitals. 

It is after one of these Ludenbaum interviews that 
I discover Senorita Maud is ready to accept my pro- 
position and leave Manila for Hong Kong. 

During this troublous time I have been hindered in 
my arrangements to leave the island by my firm in 
Hong Kong. Business has been disarranged by the 
insurrection, and Martin, Thompson & Co. do not wish 
me to depart until I can leave their affairs in proper 
order. This, however, I have pretty well completed,, 
and now make my proposal to Maud, asking her to 
induce Mazie to give up her Church scruples and wed 
me, heretic as I am. “Then I can take my bride to 
Hong Kong, and offer to you, my dear sister, an 
asylum until the gallant young American is ready to 
claim you.” 

“And my father ?” whispers the girl. “What of 


JACK CURZON. 


95 


him ? If his daughters fly from Manila, they will think 
it evidence that he intends to fly also, and that will 
seal his fate in the present suspicious state of the 
Spanish officials. You know every vessel sailing from 
Manila is closely searched for suspects ; that no one 
can leave here without the permit of the military au- 
thorities.” 

“Certainly,” I reply, “but it will be easy to get 
the necessary permission for you and your sister.” 

“Are you sure of that .?” mutters Senorita Ysabel, 
and glances uneasily at Mazie, w^ho is at the other end 
of the apartment glaring at us savagely, though pre- 
tending to be entertained by the Corregidor as he 
bends over her with Don Quixote affability. 

“ Yes, I think they dare not refuse passport to two 
girls,” I whisper. 

“And then my father ? ” 

“ In some way,” I reply, “we must smuggle him 
out.” 

“ How ? ” 

“Well, Thompson & Co. have ships leaving here,” I 
whisper, “ and I think his escape can be arranged with 
one of our skippers. Have I your permission to try, 
if your father will consent ? Think of the gallant 
young fellow who is awaiting you, perhaps even now 
at Hong Kong.” 

“Yes, Phil has just joined the Asiatic Squadron. I 
have his letter,” whispers the girl, longing joy flying 
over her mobile face. “ Yes, for his sake I consent. 
Z>ws mio I What does it matter if we are robbed of 
our lands and our inheritance if we have happiness. 
Presto I make the arrangements, dear Jack.” 

“Now, had we not better tell Mazie .?” I whisper, 
the joy of anticipation in my voice. 

“No, not yet. She talks too much to the cura,^' 
dissents Maud, a tinge of fear in her voice. 

“I doubt if you are right,” I mutter. “You judge 
her too much ” 

“By what I was, before in the United States I came 
in contact with people of reflection ; people who looked 
before they leaped. Mazie is like I was when I left 
here, she is a creature whose heart and passions are 
her springs of action, not her mind. As for me, now, 
I think first and act afterwards ; unless Dios mio^ I am 


JACK CURZON. 


96 

very much excited,” says this young lady of Spanish 
blood and Yankee intellect. “But Mazie is fireworks 
all the time, especially when she thinks of you.” 

‘ ‘ That is the reason I wish to tell her. ” 

“Well, Jack, of course, if you think best, but by 
Bunker Hill, let us test her first. You have hinted to 
our dear Mazie that you wish to take her to Hong 
Kong, haven’t you.? I know you have. No man 
could look at her beauty and graces and charms of 
manner and — and feel my sister’s dear noble heart 
beating against his, and not tell her that.” 

“ Yes, I probably have said something to that effect.” 

“Then you have made a mistake. We will see that 
soon, I fear. Evil may come of it. She tells the Cor- 
regidor too much.” ' 

“ What .? Trusts that old villain .? ” I mutter. 

“Ah, the old villain is a complimentary old villain. 
Mazie believes everybody good like herself. Being dis- 
ingenuousness embodied, Mazie’s tongue speaks what 
her mind thinks. Wait anyway until we have every 
arrangement made, so that if she does give hint of our 
going, it will be too late for our enemies to act.” 

“ Perhaps you are right,” I assent. So we make no 
confidant of my affianced, in which, I sometimes think 
we made a fearful mistake. 

However, I go away quite cheerily, and arrive at 
my office to receive a surprise. I have hardly taken 
seat at my desk, when a languid-looking Mongolian 
gentleman enters sheepishly, and I spring up and cry : 
“By Jove, Ah Khy ! ” 

“Yes, Jack,” says that young Chinaman, who is 
faultlessly dressed in white Manila drill, and has his 
monocle stuck in his eye, “By Josh, I’m here !” and 
he removes and brushes carefully one of Knox’s most 
glossy Broadway stovepipe hats, a tile that makes him 
cock-o’-the-walk in Manila headgear. 

“What the devil sent you to this land of fighting.? ” 
I ask. 

^‘Hen Chick, my father!” mutters the dandy rue- 
fully. “ My governor raised the devil with me' when 
he returned to Hong Kong, because the warning didn’t 
hold the Senorita Gordon.” This last is a whisper. 
“ So,” whimpers Ah Khy, “ my governor took Chinese 
methods, talked about bambooing me, and all that 


JACK CURZON. 


97 

Confucius rot. He said I wasn’t a success as a Western 
barbarian, and now he’d try and make me an average 
hard-working Chinese merchant, and by the Seven 
Devils ! he has sent me to Manila to do it. Hang it, 
I m afraid here. Li Chow fled to Singapore yesterday ; 
Ah Sam and Lee Yek both sneaked to Nagasaki on the 
Japanese steamer. They know it isn’t healthy here ! 
But my father says by the Seven Dragons ! business 
must be attended to, so I’m with you, my la-di-da ! For 
the Lords sake, tell me how to walk cautiously.” 
Then he looks at me astounded and mutters : “Holy 
Poker! You are as brave as a High-binder, you are!” 

‘ ‘ Why ? ” I ask. 

“By Josh ! because you know and I know, I saw 
you that night walking with that head devil of those 
conspirators in Hong Kong. So you must have cap- 
tured the Katipunan secrets.” To this, with infernal 
Mongolian cunning, he adds: “Under these circum- 
stances, I fear they must have made you one of them 
to let you live.” 

“ Rats and rubbish ! ” I cry savagely, though prob- 
ably there is a little tremble in my voice, so many of 
my brother members of the Society have had sudden 
and violent deaths within the last few months. Then 
I say to him sternly : “You have some message from 
your father to the Senorita Gordon ? ” 

Here Khy’s Chinese knees begin to knock together. 
He murmurs; Yes, but I dassn’t tell it to her.” 

“Tell it to me,” I mutter. 

“Well, my father says for Miss Maud to get out. 
That’s all. He says by the Dynasty of Chow, the 
tyrant, to get out. He says, tell her the Chinese pro- 
verb : ‘ If you’re frightened of the shadow of the man 
coming behind, don’t let him overtake you.’ She’ll 
understand that, if she’s as bright as a woman as she 
was as a kid.” This is given me in Khy’s lowest voice 
in a recess of my private office. 

“Very well,” I say, “you can depend upon my 
telling it ; but as you love your own life, no babbling 
about Katipunan secrets. Spain doesn’t care much 
for Chinese protests. They’d have you in the Fort 
over there in no time. As for me, I am an English- 
man ! ” And with a Johnny Bull’s faith in the power 
of his country’s protection, I placidly gaze at the 
7 


JACK CURZON. 


98 

Chinaman as he mutters assent to my commands, and 
strolls off trying to light with trembling fingers a ciga- 
rette. 

“By the Lord,’' I mutter, ‘^Ah Khy isn’t brave! 
But I do not know the Chinese character. Ah Khy 
isn’t brave, till he’s cornered. Then, beware the rat at 
bay I 

Hen Chick’s message suggests to me I must take 
immediate action in the matter of the departure of the 
young ladies, so the next morning I apply at the 
proper office for the necessary permits for Senoritas 
Maud and Mazie Gordon to leave Spanish territory ; 
and to me comes an awful shock. 

“Yesterday, Senor,” says the colonel in charge, an 
urbane, suave individual, with long drooping mus- 
tachios, “ I should have been pleased to comply with 
your request, which, however, I do not see is counter- 
signed by the father of the young ladies, who have 
been the charm of Manila society ; but to-day the 
Supreme Court of Luzon has re-opened the case of 
Don Silas Salem Gordon in the question of Htulo real of 
the tobacco estate called Santa Domingo, and sent it 
back to the judge in the Province of Nueva Ecija for 
retrial, issuing also an order that his daughters, Maud 
Ysabel and Mazie Inez, be compelled to attend that 
court as soon as it can be opened in order to give 
their evidence in the case. Of course, as witnesses 
under such order, the young ladies will not be per- 
mitted to leave the island until the case is tried and 
their testimony taken.” 

“Witnesses! Compelled to remain here until the 
case is adjudged 1 When will that be? ” 

Quien sM murmurs the official. “God only 
knows. The law is slow. The case will not be tried until 
the rebellion is finished, because no judge could hold 
court at present in that distracted province. I think 
the young ladies will have to remain here and give 
their light to our society until at least the summer, pos- 
sibly the winter, perchance a year or two longer. Who 
can tell ? We are in the hands of Providence. But 
you have my best wishes, Senor Curzon. I am told 
you look upon one of the young ladies with the eyes 
of love. Adios, mi amigo, courage ! And the 
colonel offering me a cigar and shaking me by the 


JACK CURZON. 


99 


hand, adds: “We always like to stand well in the 
eyes of your great country. Remember me to your 
Consul, Senor Walker, when you see him.” 

I stagger out from the Spanish bureau aghast, ap- 
palled. 

After a hurried mental review of the situation, I 
think ril wait until evening and turn the matter over 
in my mind before delivering this crushing news to 
Senorita Maud. 

So it is almost nine o’clock and quite dark when my 
carromata rattles into the empty courtyard of Don 
Silas's bungalow. 

Dismissing the driver 1 stand under the palms, 
bamboos and bananas of Bully Gordon’s pretty garden 
and cry : “Oy baiaf” several times. 

At my sixth summons a form glides out from the 
shrubbery and taps me on the shoulder. As I turn, 
the never to be forgotten hand-grip of the Katipunan 
gives my nervous system an electric concussion. 

“Don Silas’s servants are all watching a cock- 
fight in the stables, but Senor Curzon, the ladies are up- 
stairs, and I think will receive you,” is whispered in 
my ear. 

“My God !” I gasp, “Ata Tonga!” 

“Yes, my brother in blood. I smelled you as you 
alighted,” he returns ; then even in the gloom his eyes 
seem to light up with Oriental passion, and he mutters : 
“Cambunian bless you, Englishman, you are here as I 
am, to save my beloved lady,” and seizing me in his 
athletic arms, gives me the greeting of his tribe, rub- 
bing his great nose up against mine, and muttering : 
“ Santos, you always smell true.” 

“You are here } ” There is interrogation in my voice. 

“To do all that the spirits will permit to save her 
whose breath is like roses,” and he waves his hand to- 
wards the upper story. “If not to save her, and her 
strait is dire,” here his barbaric voice grows intense 
and awful, “ at least to avenge.” 

‘ ‘ On whom .? ” I mutter. 

''Dios, have you no eyes ! Caramha ! have you no 
nose.^ Can’t you see that Dutchman who smells of 
the anaconda ? Can’t you see that Corregidor whose 
odor is that of the poison snake of the rice swamps ? ” 

“Ah ! You have seen them here? ” 


100 


JACK CURZON. 


“All this day, I have been Ata Tonga, the Tagal 
boy, who runs errands and is once more kicked about 
the house of Bully Silas. I am no longer the being of 
education. I am simply ‘Ata,' the boy to hold your 
horse when you call me, and as such I must not speak 
to you longer here. Two nights from now, Thursday, 
at the Gallina de Tondo, a tremendous cock-fight," the 
savage’s eyes blaze, “Don’t fail to wager on the 
lubuyo, the wild cock. He has defeated everything in 
Bulacan. I brought him here with me." 

“Ah, you come from the insurgent lines?" I 
whisper. 

Carrajo ! don’t speak of it. Knowledge is great ; 
but silence is golden. Remember Thursday evening ; 
in the crowd I’ll give you the signal. Adios. I'ill 
then forget me, brother." He walks up the steps and 
opens the front door into the caida, and salaming calls 
in announcement : “ Sen or — Senor — ! Your pardon 
Hildago — your name ; I have forgotten.’’ 

I grin at at the diplomacy of my brother Katipun- 
an, and remark blandly : “ Curzon.” 

“Ah, Senor Curzon, the foreign gentleman, would 
like to bow before you, my mistress.’’ 

This is interrupted by a growl from Bully Gordon, 
who comes striding out of the salon apparently in a 
very bad humor He cries : “ Shut your mouth, Ata ! 
Step into the parlor and tell the ladies Jack Curzon is 
here ! " then breaks out at me : “ Have you heard the 
cursed news, Jackie! Santos y demonios I I mean 
hell and the devil ! Do you know what they’ve done ? 
The infernal Supreme Court of Manila have reopened a 
claim settled six years ago, the old claim. For Dios ! 
I mean by the Lord Almighty ! They’ve sent it all 
back to Nueva Ecija to be tried. But that isn’t the 
worst, my jolly joker.’’ And Bully Gordon, whom this 
news seems to have made half sober, goes to whisper- 
ing to me : You were hinting about getting the girls 
out of this infernal hole. You’ve got about as much 
chance to do it now as a fellow triced up at the gangway 
has against the bos’n’s mate and his cat o’ nine tails. 
By Davy Jones’s bones, they have commanded the 
attendance of my daughters as witnesses at that trial. 
You and your courting are on a lee shore, my land 
lubber. ’’ 


JACK CURZON. 


lOI 


“But why have they commanded the attendance of 
your daughters ? ” 1 ask him. 

‘ ‘ DiahlOy don’t you know ? Can’t you tell. Caramha ! 
I mean, hang it ! dash it ! blow it ! They want them 
as well as my tobacco lands this time. Oh, you poor 
noodle, haven’t you got any head-lights in your bows? 
Don’t you see ’em playing around my daughters like 
sharks about a man overboard ? Aren’t Maud and Mazie 
beautiful enough to make men give their souls for ’em ? 
Carrajo ! that damned old villain Don Rafael !” he 
grinds his teeth together. 

“ But Maud is an American citizen,” I whisper. 

“ Bah, does that help Collins ? ” mutters the ex-sea- 
captain. “ Besides, Mazie isn’t. She is a Spanish sub- 
ject. Ah, that made you wince. That shocked you 
from keel to kelson, didn’t it ? ” he growls, as I clench 
my fists in impotent rage. “Still Maud’s paper of 
citizenship may make them hesitate if it’s sprung on 
them kind o’ sudden in court. But in Nueva Ecija, a 
hundred miles away from the American Consul, through 
swamps, morasses and wild country, if they know 
Maud’s got the documents, take the word of a sea 
lawyer for it, they’ll destroy them or get to windward 
of her some way. You see how cunning they are, 
sending it to Nueva Ecija. Oh, we Spaniards are great 
at the-dagger-in-the-back business,” he sneers at him- 
self and his adopted country. “ Put that in your pipe, 
my hearty, and smoke it. As for me,” he snaps his 
fingers defiantly, “ wait till they get this rebellion 
quieted a bit, then you’ll see they’ll blow me out of 
the water. Come and have some whisky. No man 
ever accused me of giving four water grog in this house. 
It’s the only life preserver left a sinking mariner going 
down in a Filipino typhoon,” and he rolls out a car- 
amha / a carrajo / and one “God have mercy on us ! ” in 
a voice that sends a shudder through me. 

I refuse Bully’s hospitality. I have now no appetite 
for food or drink, though I remember with a start that 
I have been so concerned at the news that I have for- 
gotten my dinner. 

“Ah, yes, you want to consult with Maud,” goes 
on the sea-captain gloomily. “Quite right, she’s got 
the brains ; but brains won’t win in this fight. Only 
cold lead will bring those fellows down.” Then lift- 


102 


JACK CURZON. 


ing his voice, he calls out : Aqui, Mazie, here's your 
mash, JackCurzon ! ” And my sweetheart, running out 
from the reception-room, gives me a kiss. 

But even as she does so, she shudders in my arms, for 
Gordon looking out upon the stairway of the house, 
jeers : “ Here's your other mash, El Corregidor also. 
Run and entertain him, while Don Jackie steps into 
the parlor and talks into your sister’s ear." 

“Talks whai P” whispers my affianced, a wounded 
look coming into her eyes. 

“Oh, things you are too young to understand. 
Birdie," chuckles the sea-captain. 

“I am not too young to understand some things," 
mutters the girl significantly ; then turns towards Don 
Rafael, who is already bowing before her, and mur- 
muring : “You have heard the judgment of the Su- 
preme Court. When you come to Nueva Ecija you 
will find that its Corregidor will do grand things for 
your happiness." He bows before her again, and 
kisses her hand in his affected Spanish style, while I 
gloomily step into the salon and find myself face to 
face with Senorita Maud. 

The girl looks exquisitely beautiful, her delicious 
face aglow, her eyes sparkling not with resignation, 
nor despair, but with combat. She is like the goddess 
of battle prepared to fight not only for lands and money 
but for — perchance even her own glorious self. 

Stepping to me she says, her voice strident with 
resolve: “You see what comes of Mazie's pretty 
tongue, Senor Jack. Dios mio, our Spanish masters 
have guessed our plan and will not permit us butter- 
flies to escape from their net ; " then adds with 
white lips words that frighten me : “Still perchance 
it is better that we stay here. Mazie and I are now 
my poor father’s only safeguard." 

“What do you mean ? " 

“Oh, don’t ask me ! I can’t — for the very shame of 
it — tell you what I mean," she whispers. Her eyes 
droop before my gaze, her graceful figure quivering 
under her pina gauzes as she turns away her blushing 
face and hides it in her hands. “It is too horrible ! " 
she mutters. “There are two awful men who hold 
our fate in their hands ; ihe daughters are hostage for 
the father. Don’t you understand now } " She turns, 


JACK CURZON. 


103 


and brushing the wavy locks from her forehead, looks 
straight at me, and her eyes blaze with despairing 
shame and modesty. “4y de wf,” she sighs, “there 
is nothing now but to fight them with their own des- 
picable weapons.” 

“What weapons?” 

“A woman’s only weapons, where men have neither 
gallantry nor chivalry ! From now on, diantre, I use 
their own ignoble passions to give me victory.” 
Then as I gaze upon her, a kind of horror glueing my 
tongue to my mouth, she murmurs: “I am battling 
not only for my own happiness, not only for my father’s 
life, but for your happiness also, Senor Englishman.” 

“How? My God ! how?” 

“ Why, are you blind. Madre de Dios, my Engfish 
stoic, know that the instant you marry Mazie Gordon, 
it is the signal for her father’s ruin.” 

“Explain ! ” My lips are as white as hers. 

“I mean, El Corregidor of Nueva Ecija.” She em- 
phasizes the hideous suggestion of her speech by a 
glance into the caida where the Don Quixote figure of 
the Spanish official is still bending over my beautiful 
affianced. 

The tropic moonlight comes in through the concha 
windows and lights Mazie’s head, giving it to my eyes 
the beauty of an angel, as into my ear Maud whispers : 
“Your darling looks like a saint. We must watch 
over and protect my innocent sister with her trusting 
heart.” 

My hand clasps that of Senorita Maud’s, whose 
pretty fingers answer mine, as she murmurs : “They 
will never let her marry you until .” 

“Until what?” I gasp, the devil coming into my 
soul. 

“You stolid Englishmen can never guess conun- 
drums. Tra-la-la-la, don’t be inquisitive, mi caballero” 
Maud breaks into a laugh ; then brushing away the 
tears from her bright eyes, murmurs: “I — I am be- 
coming hysterical. I wonder if it is because my old 
Tagal boy, Ata Tonga, has come back and looked at 
me with eyes of worship, and whispered in my ear ” 

“What?” 

“Oh, that I can’t tell you. That, I — Dios mio, let's 
have a pleasant night ? Here comes Herr Ludenbaum, 


104 


JACK CURZON. 


mein leedle pupa/’ and she commences to imitate the 
German’s Teuton dialect with great archness and 
success, as I hear the genial Prussian’s voice in the court- 
yard crying: Mein Himmell Is dot you, Ata mein 
Knabe. So you have come back to our leedle fraulein. 
Hold my ponies. Donner und Blitzen! It looks like 
ole times now. Don’t you vas remembering. Don’t 
you envy Papa Ludenbaum, who is going up to kiss 
der Senorita’s pretty leedle marble hand.” 

On hearing this, the Senorita gives a derisive little 
laugh, drops upon the piano stool, and commences to 
play and sing, “ Ta-ra-ra-boom-de-ra,” in a wildly ex- 
travagant, yet curiously excited manner. 

“Aha, Papa’s favorite tune,” cries Ludenbaum, put- 
ting his head into the parlor, and he joins in the ditty, 
dancing with uncouth steps ; then Mazie, child of 
nature, running in, commences to flip her pretty feet 
about also, and the old Corregidor comes shuffling 
after her with rather stiff steps. So they all go dancing 
about and singing that popular melody, while I, stolid 
Englishman, look at these children of nature, and 
think: “Oh, idiot Filipinos, singing when you should 
be sighing ; dancing upon the rocking of the earth- 
quake.” 

But after a wild romp, Maud suddenly springs from 
the piano, and cries : ‘ ‘ Let’s all go to the opera ! Music’s 
got into my head. To-night they sing ‘Fra Diavolo.’ 
I adore Auber ; Ludenbaum, you like music; Don 
Rafael, so do you. Mazie — a night at the opera, my 
darling — look your prettiest.” 

“ It will take too long,” I mutter gloomily, “for you 
ladies to dress. ” 

Santos! Behold me!” And Maud throws off her 
pina gauzy scarf, which is draped over her bodice, and 
steps forth in full European evening dress, her ivory 
shoulders gleaming under the soft light of the room 
like a fairy’s. 

“Mazie, you have on your best foreign bib and 
tucker also ! ” she cries. “Off with your panuelo and 
show how pretty you look ! ” 

El Corregidor would assist her, but I brush his 
senile arm away. With eager hands I remove the 
gauzy drapery, and my own sweetheart with dimpled 
shoulders, white as snow, stands beside her sister. 


JACK CURZON. 


105 

“Don Rafad, you have influence with the director; 
precede us, and get the best box in the house. We 
should be admired,” laughs the elder girl. 

“ I am always at the order of beauty,” murmurs the 
Corregidor. “I shall have the pleasure of assisting 
you from your carriage when you arrive at El Zorilla, 
Dona Yzabel.” And the old Spanish Hidalgo after 
elaborate bows, trips down the stairs and calls his 
coachman. 

Curious enough, their duenna Dona Valrigo wanders 
in about this in full old-fashioned Spanish evening 
dress — though, as usual, she is smoking a cigarette. 

“You — you have some reason for— for the opera ? 

I whisper significantly in Maud's ear. 

“Possible!” she half laughs in a low voice. “They 
say one of the judges of the Supreme Court of Manila 
loves music.” There is a strange hint in her tones. 
Then she calls : “Herr Adolph, if you are to take me 
to my carriage, come here, but keep your stupid feet 
out of my laces. Jack, make your peace with Mazie. 
The foolish child is pouting because we've been whis- 
pering together. En avant ! 

And humming the Li Hung Chang March, Senorita 
Maud trips down the steps to her carriage her eyes 
blazing like the stars of the Southern Cross in the 
heaven above her. 


CHAPTER IX. 

THE OPERA AT EL TEATRO ZORILLA. 

The girls seem in great spirits as the ponies prance 
along with our over-crowded carriage, for Spanish eti- 
quette compels the young ladies to take their duenna 
with them. As usual Senora Valrigo says nothing, but 
smokes continuously. She has a cigarette between her 
gums even as we drive under the lights at the entrance 
of the Zorilla. 

As Herr Adolph and I spring from the carriage to 
assist the ladies, we are joined by Don Rafae'l, who 
comes striding out between the two native firemen 
who stand at the entrance of the edifice r«ady to turn 


io6 


JACK CURZON. 


their hose on anything that catches fire, and announces : 
“ Gracias a Dios, I have obtained for you a box nearly 
as conspicuous as if you were the daughters of the 
Captain-General. " 

“ Cielo, I hope we will do you honor ! laughs Sen- 
orita Maud, who is apparently in an excitedly nervous 
mood, as she places her delicate white glove upon the 
dark sleeve of this Spanish gentleman, who conducts 
her into the foyer, while Mazie slips her little hand into 
my arm, I permitting Herr Ludenbaum to do the hon- 
ors to the duenna, which he does with a very bad 
German grace, snarling once or twice to himself, and 
muttering a disgusted: ^'Mein Gotti” as the old 
Spanish lady pauses in the entrance to reluctantly 
throw away her cigarette. 

A minute after we are all in an open box separated 
by light railings from the rest of the single line of loges 
that make up the box-row of the Teatro Zorilla, and I, 
gazing over the auditorium, think it is a pretty sight ; 
the whole place being gracefully circular in form, a 
huge segment of it cut off to make the stage. In 
front of us are the orchestra stalls, in which lounge a 
goodly portion of the jeunesse d'or^e of Manila, a tinge 
of barbarism in the gentlemen's evening costumes, the 
younger ladies generally pretty, the older ones passe 
before their time, but all exquisitely robed, the warm 
climate permitting frocks of lightest gauzes, laces and 
muslin de soie, from which peep out many dazzling 
white arms and shoulders that seem all the whiter from 
the contrasting copper-sheened and bronzed beauties 
of their Mestiza neighbors. For in no place, this world 
over, is the cast of color so lightly regarded in social 
life as in the Philippines ; priests at country inns sitting 
down with Chinese pedlars and Spanish officers taking 
their dinners alongside of Tagal head-men, and Mestizo 
planters, ad libitum. 

In proof of this, seated near some Spanish lieutenants, 
I see Ah Khy in accurate evening costume, Bell & Co. 's, 
of Fifth Avenue, dress suit, making a fine showing and 
his single eyeglass doing good work for this Ameri- 
canized Celestial dandy, who would stroke his mus- 
tache, if he had one, in imitation of the Spanish officers, 
as he gazes about languidly over the ladies in the boxes. 
His eye catching mine, he smiles ; and then as it rests 


JACK CURZON. 


107 

upon the exquisite loveliness of Maud and Mazie grow- 
ing knowing. Still I note the wonder in his face at 
their enjoying the opera so debonairly under the cir- 
cumstances, for Maud seems the embodiment of light- 
hearted merriment, though once or twice a little quiver 
of her arms indicates the nervous tension that is wrack- 
ing her soul. 

Between the audience and the stage, is fiddling an or- 
chestra that would do credit to any theater on earth, 
native-born Filipinos, who in a careless though artis- 
tic abandon of shirts not tucked into their trousers, 
play their music con amore with an accent, rhythm and 
passion, and at times, a fury that would probably de- 
light Auber himself. It certainly does the Italian con- 
ductor, who has a genial smile on his face, as with 
waving baton he gives the tempo to the March of the 
Carboniers, the dashing finale of the first act floating 
out over the audience. 

Behind us are the tag-rag-and-bobtail of the capital, 
tier upon tier of them, growing more tag-rag-and-bob- 
tail as they reach the upper levels. For every Filipino 
loves music — perchance more dearly than his stomach, 
though every man of them is provided with cJiow and 
betel-nuts to soothe the long waits between acts, and 
every one of them has a pair of willing hands and a 
shrill voice to give his plaudits which are loud and long, 
as the performance from a musical standpoint is gen- 
erally a good one, though I can’t help grinning at the 
ballet. Filipina girls every one of them, with their 
bronzed skins well-floured to give them European flesh 
tints, and their graceful limbs in pinkest tights and 
stockings, and their feet, accustomed only to chinelas, 
cramped into high-heeled French slippers and bottines, 
which would produce an awkwardness of movement 
had not the poor girls been rehearsed ad libitum this 
very day in wearing the unusual foot-gear. 

Mixed with the gilded youths of the Philippines are 
a number of Spanish officers, civil and military, quite 
a little contingent of them being from the fleet, one or 
two white-headed veterans wearing decorations re- 
ceived for campaigns in Andalusia against the Carlists, 
and Cuba in the Ten Years’ War, and in Mindanao 
against the Morros, which combat has only slack- 
ened slightly since the rebellion in Luzon. These 


io8 


JACK CURZON. 


are mostly officers of the garrison of Manila, the bulk . 
of the troops being still engaged at Cavitd against the 
Insurgents under Aguinaldo, and in Bulacan and Pamp- 
angas against Santallano and the ex-village-school- ^ 
master Ensebro, now known by the more high sound- i 
ing title of General Dimalerga, who though worsted at | 
Santa Maria, is still making a guerilla combat of it. I 

This gives the whole place a military and official ap- | 
pearance, for a good many of the civil dignitaries of ■ 
Manila are present, professors of the University, judges | 
of the courts, under-secretaries of the Captain General's f 
private office and customs department. j 

Among these, I note, especially, Don Amadeo de 
Torres, chiefly because he looks so often towards our 
box, and once or twice smiles and waves his hand to 
El Corregidor, who gazes out upon the audience over j 
the white shoulders of the two lovely girls in front of j 
him. j 

As the prima donna, an Italian Diva, is very pretty, 
and makes a great hit, as the tenor is fair, as Beppo is 
giving a new comic deviltry to his role, and as the 
chorus and ballet are well up to the average, the 
orchestra magnificent, and everybody loves music, the 
whole place is in a good humor, even stern-looking 
General Rios, who has just come from the field of battle, 
smiling and humming to himself the pretty waltz song 
of Zerlina who has an exquisite . figure and displays 
it most liberally in the celebrated disrobing scene. 

This portion of the performance appeals to our Ger- 
man companion in a way that makes him roll his eyes 
about and shriek “Brava! Bravissima ! " though as 
his gaze leaves the stage I note his eyes roll more as 
they light upon and linger over the beautiful arms, 
shoulders and bust of Senorita Maud who sits just in 
front of him and whose beauty has drawn upon her 
the eniracte attention of the house. 

So the performance runs along, everybody appar- 
ently very happy, and the pretty little Filipina flower 
girls who come down the aisles robed in their jusis, do 
a great business in selling flowers between the acts, 

Don Rafael buying a lot of the fairest blossoms and 
tossing them upon the ladies of our box in his extrava- 
gant Spanish fashion. 

All this time I, sitting at the rear notice a peculiar 


JACK CURZON. 


109 

change in the bearing of Senorita Vsab^l. Before this, 
in public, the girl had seemed to rather shrink from the 
attention that her beauty always attracted. Now on 
the contrary she sits in the full blaze of the lamps over- 
head, and lets them halo her loveliness ; her exquisitely 
modeled shoulders and arms, and rounded bosom gleam- 
ing white as snow and glistening as ivory under the 
lights of the auditorium ; her glance running over the 
audience as if seeking someone. Finally it seems to 
me, ^e has found him. She taps lightly with her 
fan, for it is now between the acts, El Corregidor, and 
murmurs : “That is Don Amadeo de Torres, is it not, 
the gentleman to whom you just bowed.? Ah, he is 
coming to see you ; an old friend of yours ? Wave 
him to the box, I grant you permission." 

“Yes, he is Don Amadeo. He is a very old com- 
rade of mine," replies Don Rafael. So a moment 
after, this gentleman, who is one of the judges of the 
Supreme Court of Manila enters the loge, and bows 
before the two pretty sisters. 

“You have not honored the opera before. Dona 
Ysabel," remarks the gentleman of the law, as he 
bends before her, his eyes coldly critical, as if they 
were inspecting one of the decisions of some under 
judge. 

“No, we have only been once, to hear ‘Lucia,'" 
says the girl. “Papa hasn't been well." 

“ Oh, yes, I know, old Don Silas. His name comes 
up before us in the court quite frequently," mutters the 
official, his glance growing a little more precise and 
sterner, “but we forgive him the trouble he has caused 
us, because of the beauties he has presented to Manila 
society." 

With this, the judge, who has a soft voice and grand 
black eyes like those of a Spanish student, who though 
he adores books also adores the devil, unbends his 
almost official punctilio and enters into a light con- 
versation with both the girls, for Senorita Mazie has 
murmured to him, a little blushingly from behind her 
fan: “Don't you think La Amati, the prima donna, 
is rather free in her stage manners ? " 

“ Z>ws mio, it is quite natural," laughs the gentle- 
man of the ermine. “ If she played her role coldly, 
who would believe she was an Italian soubrette. Be- 


no 


JACK CURZON. 


sides how would Beppo and Giacomo do their imitation 
in the last act of her disrobing, singing : ‘Ah, what a 
pretty little figure ! ' did not La Diva give the two 
good-humored villains a glimpse of her charms, my 
innocent young lady/’ 

“Yes,” remarks Maud, biting her lips and growing 
a little red in the face. ‘ ‘ All stage villains, I believe, 
love ladies. I wonder if they are equally susceptible 
in real life ? ” There is a little sneer on her face, as she 
gazes meditatively towards Herr Adolph and the Cor- 
regidor. Then her eyes flame as they glance into the 
face of the gentleman, whom she knows has been one 
of the court who signed the order commanding her and 
her sister s attendance at Nueva Ecija, a location that 
will place them far away from outside aid. 

“ Oho, you must not judge everybody by the stage 
scoundrel, Fraulein Maud, otherwise what would be- 
come of poor Papa Ludenbaum,” grins the German. 

“ Still I can imagine no greater temptation for 
an ardent villain than the eyes of beauty,” interjects 
the judge. Though his tone is guarded, his orbs for 
one moment lose their icy luster and glow like fire. I 
can see by his glance that by the eyes of beauty he 
means Maud’s eyes. 

Apparently the girl guesses this also ; her delicate 
fingers clutch themselves upon the ivory sticks of her 
lace fan and her face grows red. 

“ Is it a blush of modesty or the flush of triumph.? 
Perhaps it is both,” I cogitate. 

Just here the curtain falls upon the second act, and 
several cahalleros enter the box to do homage to the 
beauties of its young ladies. Among them I carelessly 
note Don Miguel Robles, Colonel of the Carabineros 
Rurales, a body of native troops recruited from the In- 
dians, and at present doing duty as home guards in the 
Binondo and surrounding suburbs. For the Spanish 
garrison has been greatly weakened to make their field 
force effective. Robles is an officer of handsome pres- 
ence, adored by his men, and popular with the ladies. 

I rather smile as I see him enter the lists for Maud’s 
glances against the potent judge who has a kind of 
Julius Caesar appearance, his-eyes being coolly com- 
manding, his forehead high, his nose of pronounced 
Roman power and form. 


JACK CURZON. 


Ill 


But just here, remembering that I have had no dinner, 
I take advantage of the entr’acte and getting away from 
the heated auditorium, step across the street to sit 
down in a cool little cafe opposite the theater, and in- 
dulge in a hurried cup of tea, a bunuelo and a cigaif » 

While here, a few snatches of conversation comiiag. 
to me from a couple of neighboring Spanish officers, 
turn my mind upon the judge with a start. 

^'Caramhal Did you see Don Amadeo this even- 
ing?" laughs a lieutenant. “The Julius Cassar of the 
law-books has got ahead of the Don Cesar of the army. 

'‘Ciertof” answers a grizzled captain, who is his 
companion. “ But this is quite unusual. Don Amadeo 
is said to be the most difficile gallant in Manila. He is 
ice, till he is fire. He is cold as Julius Caesar till a 
Cleopatra seduces him. Then like Caesar he makes 
short work of her enemies. You know I have been in 
garrison in these islands for many years. It is now 
ten of them since the judge became a widower, and 
but twice has he been susceptible to the ‘bribe*of- 
Paris,’ and then it required a very Helen of Troy to 
mesh him. One, the beautiful Dona de Guzeman, won 
her case even against the whole power of the order of 
Augustins after he came upon the bench. But she was 
more lovely than a hashish dream, and had a very 
complacent husband. The other, Senora Mirande, the 
prettiest woman in Ermita, but nineteen, with the form 
of a Venus, the graces of a Psyche, the wit of Ninon de 
UEnclos, the morals of a Pompadour, had her claim 
allowed even against the Spanish Government. But 
that was only after she had smiled as sweetly on him 
as Eve did to Adam. Then, Diablo how His Honor 
smashed the witnesses against her. Contempt of 
court, perjury, malfeasance in office ruined them." 

“ Por Dios I Then it is better to be a judge for the 
love of ladies than to be a soldier," growls the lieu- 
tenant. 

“Yes, we get the smashes of the bolo and the im- 
pact of the bullets ; they get the arms of beauty and 
the impact of silver dollars," mutters the captain. 
“ Lieutenant Conti, if you are born over again, throw 
down the sword, pick up the pen, and become the 
lawyer not the soldier. Even the dashing Robles’ 
sword is an impotent weapon against the judge’s quill. 


II2 


JACK CURZON. 


But the curtain will be going up, and I wouldn’t miss 
the opening music of the Hermitage for even another 
whiff of a cigarette.” With this the two officers hurry 
out. 

I would stride off to the Theater after them, to take 
another look at the judge in whom I have inquired a 
sudden interest, did not Ah Khy stroll languidly into 
the cafe. 

“By Hookie, Jack,” he laughs seating himself at 
my table, “do you know I adore Manila. None of 
the infernal race distinction of Hong Kong. If I had 
dared to walk into the stalls of the Theater Royal on 
the Queen’s Road when they give a performance ‘ by 
command,’ which is generally a bad one, I would 
doubtless have had my head knocked off for my inso- 
lence. Even in Yankee land, Chinamen have more 
rights than in Hong Kong, where, despite my New 
York dress suit and European bearing, I have been 
asked infernally impudent questions by the damned 
Sikh policemen when I have strolled the streets a little 
late at night, and yet they wonder at our populace in 
Pekin throwing mud at Europeans. But here — have 
another cigar, — I feel, by Bunker Hill, at least a human 
being. Exquisitely pretty girl, that Senorita Maud, 
though she always was a promising kid,” he mutters. 
“ Tell you what I’m going to do. My father’s been in- 
fernally liberal with me since I came down here. Fm 
going in for that prima donna ; she’s a beaut. In that 
take-off-her-clothes scene she was a corker. Reminded 
me of what I saw as a Yale rounder at Koster& Bial’s.” 

What the deuce Koster & Bial’s is, I can’t guess. 
Before I have time to question him, he breaks out 
again : “Say, do you know anything more about old 
Ludenbaum.?” this last in a whisper. “What makes 
the old Dutch duffer so infernally busy when there is so 
little business going on. You don’t keep your eyes 
peeled. You hate him, you fear him, and yet you let 
him alone. My father hates him like a Mandarin does 
a Yellow-jacket, but he keeps his eye on him ready to 
smash him. You English go through the world and 
don’t see what is poked under your nose ; you don’t even 
see the game little Miss Maud is up to. I dropped on 
to it half an hour ago. Big suit of her dad’s in the 
Supreme Court, eh? — The iciest justice on the bench 


JACK CURZON. 


I13 

is unbending, eh ? She’s deeper than you or I. Look 
out for her little sister also, the one you spoons on. 
She gave you one or two curious glances when you 
leaned too closely over Maud’s glossy shoulders. 
Jealous little beggar, Mazie always was. Hit me in 
the eye with a cocoanut when she was a kid because 
I wouldn’t let her pull my tail and cry ‘Ding ! dong ! 
Bell ! ’ like the verger in the cathedral.” 

At this I laugh so heartily that Khy rises in a huff and 
mutters as he walks off that he won’t tell a duffer 
like me a point that’ll make my eyes blink. 

But I have enough points this night to make my 
eyes blink and my heart heavy. I walk over to the 
Zorilla, and getting to our box again, find to my con- 
cern that Maud is still playing her game with the 
Spanish judge. 

This gentleman, who is not over forty-five, has by 
this time favored her dazzling loveliness with one or 
two sparks of fire from his cold judicial eyes. Per- 
chance his passions are inflamed, perhaps his heart 
interested by the delicate touch-me-not badinage of 
the girl, who is treating him in an American-off-hand 
manner which entirely astounds him. 

It is a new sensation to the judge of the Supreme 
Court of Manila to be told he is “a wicked old boy,” 
and have his fingers rapped smartly yet coquettishly 
with a fan, when under the shadow of the box rail he 
has attempted to take possession of the pretty little 
gloved hand. He has also been very much astonished 
when he has begged the privilege of paying his respects 
to the young lady at her villa, to be introduced to the 
duenna by Miss Maud and told with a roguish glance 
that Dona Valrigo will always be at home to him 
after siesta. 

“And you ? ” murmurs the judge of the all-powerful 
court, who now is apparently pleading at the bench of 
beauty — his eyes being entreating. 

“ I ? ” says the senorita archly, “I will probably be 
preparing for my drive. “ But still, it won’t do you 
any harm to try, you can take pot luck with the rest 
of the boys.” 

‘^Santos, take pot luck with the rest of the boys.?” 
ejaulates Don Amadeo, whom Maud’s translation of 
the American idiom seems to mystify — “ That means ? ” 
8 


JACK CURZON. 


I14 

“If you come early and stay late you may have a 
chance to kiss my hand when you say adieu. I’m 
popular with the Caballeros T' laughs the young lady 
lightly. 

This kind of badinage, to which he is utterly unac- 
customed, seems to astound yet fascinate Don Ama- 
deo. He forgets about the music. The prima donna 
on the stage ceases to attract his eyes, though she has 
as pretty ankles as were ever flipped over the footlights 
in Manila. He forgets even the impassioned music of 
that great last act, where to the tolling of the hermit- 
age bell, the brigand chief is lured to his destruction 
those strains so full of a man’s death that they carry 
tears in every melody of the voice and each chord of 
the orchestra. 

Some of these get into the girl’s mind, for as the 
last strains of the orchestra die out with a wail, as 
Don Amadeo bows before her. Miss Maud gives him 
an awful shudder ; and as he tenders his arm, mutters 
an affrighted : “ No, no ! ” 

But, seeing El Corregidor offering effusively to cloak 
Mazie, she says in light though forced voice to his 
again' suggested call : ‘‘ You can try ; that is the best 
invitation I ever give anybody, Don Amadeo,” and 
favors him with a glance over her shoulder that makes 
the face of the judge which is cold as ice upon the top 
of a volcano till the eruption comes, blaze red as the 
lava of Mayon. 

Noting this, Ludenbaum snarls under his breath to 
El Corregidor : '' Donnerwetter, you have brought a 
new complication upon us, mein friendt.” 

To this I hear Don Rafael whisper: “Courage, 
hombre bravo ! ” though apparently his mind is per- 
plexed at this new situation that is opening to him. 

As for Senorita Maud, she chats quite excitedly as 
we drive home from the opera, but one of the ques- 
tions her vivacious tongue asks, rather astounds me. 
“ This Don Amadeo is a big-wig of the law and very 
rich, is he not.?” she murmurs contemplatively. 

‘ ‘ Rich .? Donner und bliizen I ” breaks in the German, 
“ He has been a judge of the Supreme Court of Manila 
for ten years ; that should be your answer, mein 
fraulein. Rich.? Don Amadeo is rich as a Croesus 
and avariciously greedy as a hog ! ” 


JACK CURZON. 


IIS 

Aha, ’’laughs the girl merrily. “Then Don Amadeo 
must be financially very fat.” There is a little ring in 
her voice that makes me glance at Miss Maud, but in 
the semi-darkness of the carriage I can only see a pair 
of bright eyes. Just at this time Mazie breaks out : 
“What are you patting your foot so viciously on mine 
all this time for, Maud? My toes have feelings.” 

Though I break out laughing at this, even Mazie’s 
light voice doesn’t make me very cheerful, and after 
we leave the young ladies and their duenna at the 
Gordon bungalow I stroll away to the English Club to 
put down four or five pegs in a distracted manner as 
I lie under the flapping punkah, and fear for the 
happiness of dashing young Phil Marston of the U. S. 
Navy. 

A moment later I mutter : “Pish ! If a man can’t 
trust Maud Ysabdl Gordon then he’d better bag his 
demned head.” 

Then I think of Mazie, and with that stride up to my 
room and have another awful night with mosquitoes 
and the “embracer.” 


CHAPTER X. 

AN AFTERNOON ON THE LUNETA. 

But commerce has no respect for love, passion and 
anxiety. I am compelled to be in my office in the 
Plaza de Cervantes early the next day, to get a cargo 
of hemp cleared in time for my afternoon siesta, some- 
thing in which everybody in Manila indulges, even 
the condemned in his cell, even the executioner on the 
day he twists the neck of the condemned with the 
garote. 

The siesta finished, I take a carriage and crossing 
the Puente de Espana drive to the sea breezes of the 
Luneta, thinking to forget my difficulties in the superb 
music of the artillery band. 

It is six in the afternoon. In that great oval drive- 
way shaded by its tropical trees, the fashion of Manila 
takes its afternoon outing. 

Grouped with a lot of Mestizo dandies, haughty 
officers of the local garrison, officials of the Spanish 


n6 


JACK CURZON. 


civil service, and a sprinkling of everybody masculine 
in Manila, I, seated in a comfortable chair, through the 
haze of a cigar look at the passing show. Then getting 
restless I march about inspecting the showy panorama, 
where every one comes to kill a tropic afternoon. I 
even note Ah Khy stroll out of one of the little wine 
shops at the turn of the promenade, a languid smile on 
his Mongolian face, his high hat polished to perfection. 
He has a big cheroot in his mouth, but takes it out ac 
he passes me to whisper : “I’ve an eye-opener for 
you. Jack ! See you to-morrow ! " 

Spanish ladies of black eyes, raven hair and pearly 
complexions, natural and artificial, gowned in the light 
robes of the tropics — these very prettiest of afternoon 
costumes that permit glimpses of white arms and 
dazzling shoulders, and whose floating jupes of fleecy 
gauzes give enchanting hints of petite slippers and 
silken hosiery that adorn Andalusian feet and the 
ankles of Seville — reclining languidly in their low 
victorias glide past me. 

Mestiza donas, some of them of great fortune and 
tropical luxuriance of form, lolling on the easy cushions 
of their equipages, often accompanied by pretty chil- 
dren, dark-eyed boys and girls, hold my gaze in one 
continuous stream. 

Among the handsome turnouts, one rolls past me 
bearing the two beautiful sisters. Beside their coach- 
men, in place of their usual footman, in high glossy 
hat and immaculate duck livery, rides Ata Tonga as 
solemnly dignified as any flunkey in the crowd. 

Catching Maud’s bright glance and Mazie’s loving 
eyes, as their spirited ponies prance on, 1 mutter : Can 
it be true that disaster hovers over these creatures who 
seem too delicate for even the hand of Heaven to fall 
upon them, in anything save caress ? 

Spanish officers doff their caps to them deferentially ; 
Colonel Robles, magnificently mounted, bends to his 
saddle bow. Don Amadeo, driving in judicial state, 
removes the hat that covers his scholarly head. 
Whenever their carriage stops, gallant Caballeros 
gather about it. The young ladies’ laughing words 
are answered by the ardent glances of the gilded youth 
of Manila. 

But though the throng is laughing, chatting and 


JACK CURZON. 


II7 

loving with the vivacity of the tropics, the music of 
the band soft as that of a fairy dream, the breezes 
cool and refreshing as they play among the feathery 
palm trees, and the slow ripple of the surf coming into 
the great bay from the China Sea is soothing as a 
cradle lullaby, I know that to the south only some 
fifteen miles away, Spanish cannon are being fired at 
rebels, and at Bulacan, not much further to the north, 
the fighting and butchery is going grimly on ; and 
that here by order of the infamous Supreme Court are 
these two hapless ones, kept helpless to the intrigues 
of their enemies, while their father Don Silas is drink- 
ing himself to death in his despair at the fate he thinks 
is coming to his family. 

Still, as I look musingly on, I note one brave 
daughter is making her fight for the safety of her fire- 
side in a manner that frightens me ; for after his first 
round in the course, Don Amadeo has stepped from his 
carriage near me, and stands waiting for Senorita Maud’s 
low victoria as it circles round the great oval some half 
mile in extent. The music seems to have got into his 
Spanish eyes and given a romantic sensuous glow to 
them. 

It is some amorous Italian love song of Verdi, some- 
thing with passion in it, something with death in it, 
the music of that great last act of Un B alio en Mas chero, 
when the Duke is murdered while the dance is going on. 
This seems to get into Don Amadeo's head. His eyes 
lose their coldness, and give out flashes of fire, as the 
carriage of Don Silas's daughters comes opposite the 
band, its speed being checked, for nearly everyone 
here drives slowly, as if to linger as close to this 
divine music as possible. Taking advantage of his 
opportunity, the judge steps out, and, bowing over the 
little hand extended to him, whispers words too low 
for the placid duenna to catch, though they make Sen- 
orita Gordon’s face flame with a flush that adds a rosy 
brightness to her loveliness. Then the Spanish Julius 
Caesar of the law removes his hat, bows again, and 
steps back into the throng to speak to General Aguirre, 
who is standing looking impatiently on, as if anxious 
to get to his bloody work once more in Batangas. 

Somehow — I can't help it — I think of the gallant 
young officer, wearing the uniform of the United States, 


JACK CURZON. 


Il8 

who is pacing his quarter-deck up north in China 
waters. I step to the carriage, and after greeting my 
charming Mazie, whisper lightly in her sisters ear a 
scrap of warning : “ Beware of playing with the fire ! ’’ 

At my words, Maud’s blush grows deeper, and her 
eyes droop as if she were ashamed. 

Then dismay comes to me. Mazie, in her quick, im- 
pulsive, way, leans over her sister and whispers : 
“ What did you say to Ysabel that makes her ashamed 
to look me in the face ? ” 

“That’s our little secret,” I laugh uneasily. 

“ It’s always secrets now ! ” My affianced straightens 
herself in the carriage, and her charming retrousse nose 
goes haughtily into the air. As the victoria moves off, 
she says, in parting \yarning, though her eyes are full 
of tears : “Some day, Senor Jack, I may have a secret 
from you.” 

During this the Tagal, seated on the box in front, 
betrays neither by motion of his head nor body that he 
has any interest in the interview. 

But after I have gone away from the Luneta breezes, 
I spend a by no means comfortable evening trying to 
play whist at the Club, and revoking once or twice to 
the rage of my partner ; also attempting pool with 
almost equally unhappy results to myself and my 
pocket. 

The next morning, however, Ata Tonga strides into 
my office, and states loudly to my clerks he has a mes- 
age to deliver me from Don Silas. Then I, guessing there 
must be something more for him to say to me, close the 
door after him. 

In my private office he breaks out upon me in this 
manner: “Senor Curzon, remember the Tagal proverb : 

‘ what a woman sees, she believes.' Now I know, and 
you know, what you whisper to Senorita Maud are not 
words of love, but words of wisdom, caution and warn- 
ing. But Senorita Mazie fears they are what the beauty 
of my loved mistress might call to the lips of any 
young man. Therefore say and do as little as possible 
to give your affianced the pangs of jealousy — ” 

“Take Mazie into our confidence.?” I whisper. 
“You know her child-like nature. You know what 
we tell her might, with her innocent confidence^ some 
day become the property of our enemies.” 


JACK CURZON. 


II9 

“No, I can’t counsel that, but beware how you ex- 
cite her jealousy. She has within her veins Spanish 
blood. I knew her mother, gentle and loving ; but 
after her coming, Don Silas had to walk a different line, 
amid the huts of pretty Mestiza girls. Even that old 
sea-bully ” 

“And what has made you tell me this? ” 

“ My nose ! ” says the savage grimly. 

“Oh yes, your infallible nose. What has it sug- 
gested to you ? I say jeeringly, for his warning has 
made me irritable. 

“This ! When Senorita Mazie looks on you alone, 
her perfume is that of orchids. She smells like cori- 
anders, which tells me her love for you is true. But 
yesterday when you whispered to my loved lady, Sen- 
orita Mazie’s perfume came to me as musk, which 
means distrust, jealousy, sometimes even hate.” 

“ How the devil do you know women’s varying pas- 
sions from their scents ? ” I snarl. 

^^Bastal that is simple. All animals have glands, so 
likewise men and women. Even your languid, inert 
nostrils, were you in the presence of a peccary or wild 
boar, would tell you he was enraged by the foetid odor 
coming from the glands within his neck. To my deli- 
cate sense, when a woman loves, the glands in her 
neck, as she lifts her lips to her adored, give out a per- 
fume that would be naught to your nostrils, but is 
apparent to mine. So likewise when rage inflames her, 
other glands cast out their odors, and I know that rage 
possesses her.” 

“By Jove,” I laugh jeeringly,- “Ata, my man, a 
French cocoquot, with her half hundred extracts de 
Lubin and Pinaud, her Bouquet de Jockey Club, her 
Pachouly and Essence of White Violets, for her ker- 
chief and lingerie, would keep your nose guessing as 
to the true state of her passions, even more than she 
does the first favorite of her thousand amours.” 

“It is only a word of warning, Senor, but I think a 
wise one,” returns the savage with dignity. “ Hold 
as little private converse with the sister of your 
affianced as is possible under our cruel circumstances. 
Still, one of our reasons for secrecy may be destroyed 
to-morrow — and for that reason don’t fail to meet me 
at the Gallina de Tondo to-night.” 


120 


JACK CURZON. 


As he whispers this he turns towards the door. 

“What do you want to do with me at your infernal 
cock-fight ? ” I ask curiously. 

“That you shall learn when there/’ replies the Ta- 
gal. “ You English never believe what you do not feel 
or see yourselves. You know you are true, therefore 
your sweetheart should never doubt you. You have a 
dormant, worthless nose, therefore there is no perfume 
on this earth. If you were blind, there would be no 
color. Were you deaf, sound would have left this 
world. ” 

“Hang it ! ” I mutter, “I’ve got a pretty decent 
nose anyway.” 

“Pha ! A nose that doesn’t tell you,” — Ata steps to 
my desk and sniffs rapidly over my correspondence — 
“that everyone of your private letters is inspected by 
Antonio, your half-caste shipping clerk, who probably 
has a commission from the Corregidor of Nueva Ecija. 
He was once in his employ. I smelled the fellow as 
I came in. Adws, Senor, may you escape earth- 
quakes.” And the Tagal strides from my office as I 
gaze astounded after him. 

Fortunately my correspondence has been all mer- 
cantile, so I don’t fear Antonio’s discoveries, though it 
gives me a hint to be careful in all things, and increases 
my suspicion of Don Rafad’s interest in my lovely 
fiancee. 

With this I turn to my commercial work, but 
owing to the ineffably indifferent laziness of Spanish 
custom-house officials, I am unable to get my bills of 
lading approved during the morning business hours. 
For everybody works almost from sunrise in Manila to 
about nine o’clock in the morning. Then, compelled 
by the heat of the day, not only the merchant, but his 
clerks and attaches lounge about and sleep until per- 
haps four in the afternoon, when they take the reins of 
commerce or society once more in their hands, and the 
city becomes very lively and active, the Escolta shops 
being brilliantly lighted, and cafes doing a fine busi- 
ness, betel pedlars and chow dealers and cigarette 
vendors becoming lively upon the Puente de Espana, 
and all through the main thoroughfares of busy Bin- 
ondo, until late in the evening. 

So I return to my office about five o’clock in the 


JACK CURZON. 


I2I 


afternoon to finish up the cargo of hemp. I have 
about completed the bills of lading for this, when the 
Chinese dandy puts his head into my private office 
and says : “ The clerks told me you were disengaged, 
Curzon ; so I thought I d step in and tell you of my 
success with the prima donna.” 

“Ah, La Amati smiled on you.?” 

“ Great ! She’s already accepted from me a magni- 
ficent bracelet of Sulu pearls ; though Alvira— that’s her 
pretty name— doesn’t know who sent ’em. They 
were anonymous. I have, however, written that I’ll 
wear a single eye-glass the next evening at the opera 
when she plays Lucia, a bunch of orange blossoms 
in my buttonhole, and will occupy the third seat 
from the aisle, the second row. I don’t think she’ll 
be able to miss me, especially as I have also informed 
her that I’ll wear on my wrist a mate to her bracelet, 
and that she can make her set complete by removing 
it her with own pretty fingers. I have her billet-doux in 
reply. How is that for high ! ” He tosses me a little 
scented note that reads as follows : 

“Adored though unknown Seignior : 

When I sang last evening 1 knew that you were listening to me. 
Perchance that gave me the triumph which came to me. Was that 
magnificent wreath of orchids and orange blossoms, the one con- 
taining the diamond solitaire, also from you, or have you a rival ? 
I hope you have many. Grand Dio I love to be popular. 

Yours forever, with a kiss for each pearl. 

Alvira. 

P. S. — Generous cavalier ; there is also a necklace to complete 
the set, as well as a bracelet. I saw it at Zimpany’s on the Escolta 
yesterday.” 

“Do you know who sent the diamond ring ? ” I say 
laughing. 

“I have a pointer on that,” replies the Chinaman 
gloomily. 

“Who?” 

“Colonel Don Miguel Robles !” 

“How do you know that?” 

“Well, we have half a dozen bazars on the Rosario 
and Escolta ; one sells jewelry. Lai Foil, the Parsee 
who runs it for my governor, told me with tears in 
his eyes that the savage-eyed Colonel honored us by 
purchasing a similar diamond of us yesterday on credit 


122 


JACK CURZON. 


Of course, we shall never dare press the collection of 
the bill. So I fear I’m kind of running opposition to 
myself, ” mutters Khy ruefully. “Besides,” he falters, 
“that bloody Robles would think no more of splitting 
me than he would of eating his dinner ; ” then bursts 
out savagely: “I had hoped that old scoundrel Don 
Amadeo, who had his eyes on Alvira for the first two 
acts, might bust up Robles, but when the judge saw— 
you know whom — the girl that’s playing the deep 
little game, nothing else suited him in the theater. 
He’s a chap like our Chinese emperor who looks over 
a hundred beauties before he picks his mash, but when 
he does, she’s gone ! You’d better warn Senorita 
Maud that a volcano like that fish-eyed judge of the 
Supreme Court is apt to swallow up little damsels 
who trip along his crater. Nice simile that, eh ? But 
in Yale we’ve got a better one : ‘Don’t monkey with 
the buzz-saw.’ ” 

“ How will your father like your expensive amour ? ” 
I suggest savagely, for the fellow’s remarks about 
Maud are so wise they irritate me. 

“Oh, I guess the governor won’t kick, if I do his 
business all right.” 

“Yes, capturing prima donnas was the errand 
for which he sent you to Manila,” I jeer. Then my 
voice growing serious I ask, inspiration in my tones : 
“On what business did your governor send you here ? ” 

“That’s the reason I dropped in to see you,” re- 
marks Ah Khy languidly. “You can help me. Suppose 
we hunt in couples, old chappie.” 

“ Hunt in couples.?” 

“Yes, my old man thinks,” the Chinaman’s voice 
has grown very low and very cautious, “Ludenbaum 
has something to do with Aguinaldo and his crowd. 
By punk-sticks ! I don’t know how he discovered it, 
but Hen Chick drops on nearly everything. Holy 
poker ! how he hates Ludenbaum. Now, if I can 
catch Herr Adolph doing the conspiracy act with mem- 
bers of the Katipunan and give him away to the 
Captain-General, things will be made very lively for 
Papa’s vendetta. By the Lord, the German Consul’ll 
have to hustle to get ‘ Ludy ’ off with his life ! Do you 
take me, pal.? You fear Ludenbaum means some 
deviltry to the girls. Supposing we hunt him down 


JACK CURZON. 


123 


together — amateur detective business and all that kind 
of thing — catch him if possible, then biff ! report him 
to Polavieja — and Bang ! Bang ! Bang ! firing party ! 

To this I answer in Khy’s own slang: “Not by 
Josh !/’ 

Rising from my chair, and pitying the loneliness 
of this Americanized Chinaman, I suggest: “Come 
out with me over to the French cafd and have dinner 
with me/' 

“Yes, let me pay for it,” he says eagerly. Then 
this lonely declasse, whose education prevents his caring 
for Chinese society, and whose nationality bars his 
enjoying European, mutters pathetically: “It's so 
demned seldom I have a fellow to chat with at meals.” 

So I escort Ah Khy to dinner and at the French cafe 
on the Escolta we make a very pleasant hour of it 
over cutlets of Curhina fish from Laguna de Bayo, a duck 
from the Pasig, perchance of human incubation, an olla 
of chicken, garlic, and vegetables, also we have ices 
and coffee, a bottle of French claret, and some very 
fine cigarros Ilegitimo that equal the finest Havanas. 
Though the place is thronged with a jabbering crowd — 
cigar smoke being thick enough to cut — we, under the 
bustle and clatter of the place and somewhat apart from 
the rest of the throng, we are as much in private as 
people can be in such place. 

Over his wine Khy again broaches in cautious 
whispers a subject that seems to be uppermost in his 
thoughts. Why can't you chip in with me, Jack } ” 
he pleads. “If we can down him, you'll get ‘Ludy'in 
the soup and I'll make a regular ‘ straight and place' 
winning with my dad. Keep your eye on ‘Ludy'. 
Business is slow here, but Dutchy seems to have 
something on his mind. I know he meets with some 
kind of shady Mestizos.” 

“What makes you think that.?” I ask eagerly. 

“ Well, I've seen him. Last night at the opera, while 
you were at the cafe opposite, Ludenbaum was in a 
tienda next door where he bought a cigar and said two 
words to the fellow selling chow behind the counter. 
Besides, why has the Dutchman gone twice this week 
to the Teatro de Tondo P He can't understand their 
infernal native Tagalog lingo ; at least not enough of 
it to permit him to enjoy the performance. If it had 


124 


JACK CURZON. 


been to a cock-fight, something that appeals to any 
man’s sporting blood, there might have been some 
sense in it. The trouble with you English is that you 
never see anything except what hits you in the optic. 
We Chinese have much wider eyes.” 

‘ ‘ So you have ! ” I remark, gazing at Ah Khy’s almond 
slits, and remembering that he had had them very 
open on that never-to-be-forgotten night in Hong Kong. 

But a moment’s reflection tells me that Ah Khy is by 
no means a safe partner in anything that may bring 
us under the suspicion of the Spanish Government ; 
captured, he will be very apt to make a clean breast of 
everything, — even to his suspicions that I have been 
compelled to join the Katipunan. 

Therefore when he says: “What do you say to 
my proposition, old fellow ? ” I look at him wisely 
and quote his own proverb to him: “Don’t monkey 
with the buzz saw ! ” Then with my lips very close to 
his Mongolian ear, I go on with a few words that 
make Ah Khy squirm uneasily upon his chair : “ Don’t 
you mix up with this insurgent business in any form ! 
Trying to push Ludenbaum into the claws of Spanish 
justice may get you too near to them. Polavieja 
would make mighty short work of a Celestial. They 
shot a Chinaman, Ah Kow, on the Plaza Major yester- 
day.” 

“Yes I — I heard of it.” Under my ominous sug- 
gestion the Chinaman grows pale, wiggles in his chair, 
mutters: “Then you wont help me?” and rising, 
wanders to the door. 

A moment later he comes back to me and pleads : 
“If you would do it, I think we could nail ‘ Ludy ’ 
to-night. Eve got a line on him ” 

“Of what do you suspect him? Out with it;” I 
whisper commandingly. 

He waits till the clatter of dishes and conversation 
about us is highest. 

Then the Chinaman’s breath just fans my cheek : 
“Arms ! ” 

“ Pooh ! Nonsense ! Rubbish ! He dassent do 
it ! ” I break out. 

“Then you won’t help me? ” 

“Not a bit!” I say sternly. “Good-bye, I’ve got 
lots of business myself to attend to this evening.” 


JACK CURZON. 


12 $ 

And Ah Khy going timidly away, I sit reflectively 
smoking my cigar, though I have still a little time ; for 
the Chinaman’s conversation has reminded me of my 
appointment with my brother Katipunan, Ata the 
Tagal, at the Gallina de Tondo. 


CHAPTER XI. 

THE COCK-FIGHT IN THE TONDO. 

Turning my steps northward, I march along in the 
gathering gloom of evening till the tile and iron-roofed 
masonry of the business quarter merges gradually into 
the bamboo huts, thatched with nipa palms, of the native 
classes, the filth of the u-nkempt streets gradually in- 
creasing. As I cross the canal or creek which sepa- 
rates the Tondo from the Binondo, its waters are so full 
of decaying vegetable matter and the refuse of an 
unsewered city, that they make me hold my nose. 
Finally, however, getting further into the Tondo, the 
odors are not so virulent, and, even as I walk, I think 
with ordinary cleanliness Manila would be a healthy 
city. 

Two minutes after, the Babel jabber from a crowd 
of Mestizos, Tagals, Negritos, Chinese, Malays and 
the crowing of numerous chanticleers tells me I am 
near the Gallina de Tondo. 

From the shouts, cries and yells in Spanish, Tagalog 
and Chinese that come from the interior of the build- 
ing, apparently an exciting, interesting, bloody and 
savage combat of chickens is going on. But the jab- 
ber outside suggests that this one is nothing in excite- 
ment and interest to an approaching one. A combat 
— so I gather from remarks in pidgin Spanish — be- 
tween a celebrated talisain or white and black spotted 
chicken, the pride of the Trozo, the suburb in which 
he has been reared, is to be pitted against an unknown, 
a dark horse, as it were, in racing parlance, a luhuyo or 
wild cock caught somewhere in Pampangas and lately 
brought into the town. The prowess of this latter 
bird, an outside contingent of Tagalogs are backing 
with every silver dollar or copper centavo they can 


126 


JACK CURZON. 


raise, though the fame of the local bird, the Trozo 
talisain is such that they receive odds from its sup- 
porters. 

A strident voice whispers in my ear: “Hi, Senor 
Inglesis, put your money on the luhuyo." 

Elbow to elbow with me is a Tagal, his white shirt 
flopping over his scant breeches, which scarce descend 
to his bare, agile feet. The next instant the signal of 
the Katipunan tells me it is Ata Tonga. “ Watch me ; 
our business afterwards. At present, Senor, bet on the 
luhuyo. Go in and see the combat ; have a good time. 
It will be a glorious fight.'’ The semi-savage’s eyes 
light up with the flame of the sport he loves. 

To give motive for my presence in this crowd, I 
wager a couple of pesos on the luhuyo^ pay my admis- 
sion and push my way in to see the Gallina de Tondo 
in full blast. Its lower floor all around the pit is 
crowded with a mixture of Tagals, Negritos, Mestizos, 
with a few Morros from Mindanao thrown in, and 
some Sulus who wear turbans, from the lower portions 
of the archipelago, these mixed up with quite a con- 
tingent of Spanish soldiers of the line, and local troops, 
chiefly Carabineros all of whom, I notice, are of 
Indian blood, together with a few officers who cannot 
resist this sport and some dozen English and Germans 
who like the excitement of a good main as well as any 
Filipino. 

These are all chattering and jabbering in as many 
lingos, dialects and mixed languages as were ever 
heard together upon this earth. Parsee mingles with 
pidgin-English and pidgin-German ; Chinese is spoken 
with a Spanish twang ; the sharp ting of the Malay is 
heard mixed with the curses of an English sailor ; 
Tartar gutturals crush the soft limpid language of old 
Castile; harsh Japanese conquers the soft Hindo- 
stanee. All these are mixed by varying accents, 
extraordinary rhythms, peculiar pronunciations and 
barbarous phrasings, until their varying clatter runs 
into a kind of maddening Babel symphony that would 
make the author of Volapiik cry : “I am outdone ! ” 

Quite a crowd of women in the upper tier of circus- 
like seats, mostly of the lower classes, betel-nut sellers, 
cigar venders, chow distributors from the tiendas of 
Binondo, likewise some pretty Mestiza girls from the 


JACK CURZON. 


127 


big cigar factories of theCompania General and Fabrica 
Insular, and half a dozen smaller establishments, seem 
to be as excited as the male portion of the gathering. 

At present they are all venting their rage on an un- 
fortunate puti or white rooster, who has fled from his 
competitor after the latter is wounded and struck to 
the earth. This is considered the most ignominious 
action of which a game cock can be guilty. His irate 
owner and backer has seized the unfortunate bird, held 
him up to the execrations of the crowd, plucked his 
feathers out of him, and is now hanging him up out- 
side the entrance as a warning to all roosters of faint 
heart. Those who have bet their money on the re- 
creant bird, even as he hangs dead in his ignominy, 
go out and curse him in Spanish, Tagalog and all the 
mixed tongues that flow from their constantly opening 
mouths. 

Over all this hangs a veil of thick tobacco smoke, 
varied in flavor, from the 'finest cigarros Incompara- 
bles to the miserable weeds sold at three dollars a 
thousand, which occupy the mouths of some sailors 
from the Spanish Navy, or the democratic cigarettes 
at ten for a cent that are held between the betel- 
stained teeth of the cigar-making young ladies, who 
stamp their bare feet upon the boards and smack their 
hands together and cry : Maldito puti at the unfor- 
tunate, faint-hearted bird of this arena of gladiatorial 
chanticleers. 

But a hush is now coming upon the assemblage. 
Some combat a little more exciting than the ordinary, 
some duel to the death between roosters of highest 
breed, bloodiest minds and most undaunted courage, 
the matadores of cock-fighting, the retiarii and secu- 
tores of this Filipino colosseum. 

Peering into the pit, I can see, through a few inter- 
fering bowl-shaped wicker Chinese hats, that the two 
birds which have created the betting and the discussion 
outside, are being produced. 

A Mestizo of mixed Chinese and Spanish blood, one 
of the leading men of his district, by an Eton-jacket 
that he wears over his untucked shirt, and a high 
chimney pot hat upon his greasy hair, does the honors 
for the talisain, the white and black spotted cock of the 
Trozo. This bird, which the crowd call El Daga** is 


128 


JACK CURZGN. 


greeted with a salvo of applause, his victories having 
made him famous in Manila. 

Then Ata Tonga brings in under his arm most care- 
fully a magnificent lubuyo^ a wild cock grown in the 
mountains, of slimmer build, more agile presence, and 
more noble bearing than the other, though the talisain 
is a wiry, bull-terrier-looking bird, who seems as if 
he could give a good account of himself. 

Two minutes afte^ the two cocks are at it, spurs, 
beaks and wings ; and I, looking on, notice this fight 
contains as much strategy and as varying tactics as 
a dog-worry in Whitechapel or a prize fight at the 
Pelican Club. The tactics of the two birds seem to be 
different, the black and white cock standing more on 
the defensive, though when he comes back at the 
luhuyo and flies into the air to strike his sharp steel 
spurs through his adversary’s head, his movements 
are rapid as streaks of light. Still he is not so quick 
as the bird who has plumed himself and battled 
with rival cocks for his harem in the higher sierras of 
the Philippines, who has fought snakes to save his life, 
who, perchance, has dodged poisoned arrows from 
Negrito hunters until he has fallen into the trap of the 
cunning Tagal and lost his liberty but not his un- 
daunted courage. 

In the first round honors are nearly easy. The 
luhuyo has one or two slight wounds upon it, but the 
talisain shows a deep cut right across his breast, from 
which blood flows so fast the bird must be losing 
strength ; its feathers of black and white having become 
a sodden purple. 

How the sport of seeing blood flow excites man- 
kind. How easy it is to make us savages. Carried 
away by the enthusiasm about me, I wager a couple 
more silver dollars upon the bird of the hills. 

Perchance this makes me watch the tactics of Ata 
Tonga, who is handling the luhuyo. Suddenly in the 
midst of the second round, I see the savage throw his 
nose into the air like a pointer dog and turn his eyes 
about him — away from the combat. Following the 
Tagal’s glance I see diagonally across the pit, to my 
astonishment, Herr Ludenbaum laughing and talking 
with one or two foreign clerks. 

Twice the savage s glance goes towards the German. 


JACK CURZON. 


129 


Once he takes his eyes so long off the fight he handi- 
caps the bird he manages, for the chimney-pot hatted 
backer of the talisain by a deft movement rearranges 
one of the steel spurs of the black and white. This is 
observed by a Chinese boy standing near me, who 
shrieks out anathemas upon the handler of El Daga 
though he is choked to silence by an athletic Indian 
who has doubtless wagered money on the black and 
white. 

I glance eagerly to catch what has made the savage 
forgetful of his bird. A Mestizo of mixed Spanish and 
Tagal blood, has just passed behind Ludenbaum and is 
leaning over his shoulder as if intent upon the combat. 
Apparently excited by the varying fortunes of the battle, 
these two whisper to each other. 

But as I gaze upon them, a howl like that of the 
varying tongues of Hades goes up about me. In- 
voluntarily I glance at the birds doing battle for their 
lives, the wild cock has received a desperate wound 
and sunk upon the earth apparently disabled. The 
backers of the talisain are shrieking in the mixed dial- 
ects of the Tower of Babel. The Trozo champion is 
strutting about and crowing in triumph over his victim. 
His clarion note of victory destroys him. Revived by 
the cry of battle, with a light flutter of his broad wings, 
with one last expiring effort the dying cock of the 
hills has flown into the air and his sharp lancet spur 
of burnished steel has flashed under the lamp lights of 
the Gallina, and, in that flash, been driven straight 
through the head of his strutting conqueror. 

Then pandemonium breaks forth. Those who had 
thought they had won, who, for one blissful moment 
had felt the money in their pockets, now know that 
betel-nut will be scarce with them, and cigars will be 
diminished, and even some of them may go hungry 
during many coming days. They jabber in the vivaci- 
ous rage of the East ; while with shrieks of triumph the 
Tagal contingent gather up the stakes and go about 
chinking the silver dollars in their pockets, thoughtless 
in the joy of winning, of the bird who to give them 
triumph lies dead beside his rival on the sands of 
the Gallina de Tondo. 

I have just cashed my own wagers when I feel the 
hand grip I have learned to know and shiver at, and 

9 


130 


JACK CURZON. 


Ata’s voice whispers : “Come, the German is leaving ; 
come ! Keep a little distance from me so as not to be 
noticed.” 

So I slouch out of the dimly-lighted entrance and 
find myself onose more in the dirty street. The crowd 
has not diminished. Lots of combats are yet to take 
place. Two more crowing roosters surrounded by 
their friends, owners and backers are being carried into 
the arena. 

To me the Tagal whispers: “Hurry! In this 
crowd his scent will be confused. Ludenbaum must 
not leave my sight until he has drawn apart from the 
throng. Keep at a distance behind me. He might 
notice you and scarcely me.” 

With this Ata steps quickly after the German, who 
is perhaps some fifty yards in front of him. Glancing 
up the street I see Ludenbaum is followed by the Mes- 
tizo to whom he had spoken at the cock-fight, who is 
a few paces in his rear. I, heeding the Tagahs warn- 
ing, simply keep within sight of Ata Tonga. 

The steps of Herr Adolph are leading him towards 
Binondo, the main business portion of Manila, the 
route he naturally would take, he occupying a cottage 
in the suburb of Santa Cruz. 

We have passed away from the crowd in front of the 
Gallina and now encounter only the ordinary passers- 
by of the evening. All the time I keep a very smart 
eye upon the Tagal’s shirt that is fluttering ahead of 
me, for this once missed, any other light shirt in the 
gloom would look the same, and half the Filipinos wear 
them. 

So I step on for some three hundred yards, when I 
note the Tagal stop. Coming to him cautiously, I find 
him carelessly waiting for me. 

“You have missed them ? ” I mutter. 

“ Not at all,” he replies. Dios mio I I could now 
follow the German any time up to morning. They 
have turned here into a side street. The scent of the 
anaconda is strong in his footsteps, though covered 
by the odor of the Mestizo who is stepping close after 
him.” 

“Now, what do you suspect?” I ask eagerly. 
“What do you intend to do? How does this affect 
the family of Bully Gordon ? ” 


JACK CURZON. 


“Were it for my old master’s sake, that brutal ex- 
sea-captain,” says the educated savage, turning around 
upon me, and apparently being by no means in a hurry, 
“ I would let Herr Adolph do his work upon my former 
tyrant. The German hates Don Silas. So do I ! Many 
an undeserved lash and blow has the brutal Yankee 
sea-dog given Ata Tonga, the wild boy, upon his big 
plantation. We tagals always avenge!*’ The sav- 
age’s eyes gleam in the dim light. 

“But his daughters ? ” I suggest almost entreatingly. 

“ His daughters I A-a-ah I ” Love and rever- 
ence make the aquiline features of the Tagal grow 
tender as a girl’s. His eyes become soft and fill with 
tears as he murmurs : “ Senorita Maud, my lady of the 
gentle hand, whose breath is of the wild roses, she 
whom I adore.” Then, his voice becomes hoarse yet 
strident, as he mutters : “This Ludenbaum means no 
good to her. Through the daughters, perchance, he 
would strike the father ! Not while Ata Tonga breathes. 
Taking my life in my hands, I have come into the 
stronghold of my enemies on very important business 
to our cause, ” he whispers in my ear. “ Still I can de- 
vote enough of my time to my dear mistress to destroy 
the German plotter before he does her damage.” 

“What do you mean? Murder him!” I whisper 
with my lips growing parched and dry at the idea. 

^‘Diablo/ No! Make him harmless as a blinded 
buffalo.” 

“ In what way ? ” 

By the arts of the civilized. By obtaining a com- 
mercial hold upon him. I suspect this German is en- 
gaged in smuggling large quantities of dutiable mer- 
chandise into this town of Manila. Of this to-night I 
hope with your aid to obtain proof. Then I turn him 
over to you Englishmen. As a brother-merchant you 
can easily betray the smuggler to the Spanish custom- 
house officials, and you know what mercy they have 
to detected contrabandists. They will financially 
destroy him ; ruin him ; drive him out of the islands ; 
take his sting from him. In aiding Captain Gor- 
don, I am probably saving his daughters, though 
that infamous Corregidor, he who smells like the poi- 
sonous snake of the rice swamps, is in Manila also. 
What is he doing here ? But one enemy at a time. 


132 


JACK CURZON. 


Brother, to-night will you come with me to destroy — 
to make harmless Herr Adolph Ludenbaum? 

My hand answers his. 

“Then follow me, and mark me, when I hold my 
finger for silence, you must be still as a stalking panther 1 
Have you any arms ? ” 

“ No ! Ifs forbidden by the martial law proclaimed 
here. 

‘ ‘ Then take this. ” He presses a revolver into my 
hands. “Don’t use it unless it means your life. A 
single shot and the Provost guard would be upon us.” 

With this my mentor turns into a side street and 
walks along rapidly until getting out of the few lights 
of the main thoroughfare. On coming into the gloom 
of night, he suddenly astounds me by dropping upon 
his hands and knees and going with a wondrous gait 
like that of a walking monkey, his nose close to the 
ground, traveling so rapidly that I have to take good 
long English pedestrian strides to keep near him. 

This lasts for some fifteen minutes. To my aston- 
ishment I find we have gradually circled round the 
suburb of Tondo, first going east, then passing to the 
north of the Gallina, and are now returning westward 
towards the shore of the bay. 

Our direction seems to please the Tagal, who stops, 
and when I overtake him, whispers to me : “ ’Tis as I 
thought. We must not let Ludenbaum get too far 
ahead of us. Yet he must not put his eyes upon us 
now,” and goes along more cautiously. 

“You are sure you are on his track.? ” 

“Certain as a bloodhound tracing a negro. Sure 
as a spider following a strand of his web,” and the 
savage glides on. 

Some minutes after we pass into the smaller streets, 
with straggling population. Here and there only are 
nipa huts inhabited by fishermen and coolies, when sud- 
denly turning to the left, this man of wondrous nose 
crosses a lane, and comes to a little hedge of wild 
orange bushes. Here he pauses astounded, and mut- 
ters : “Curious, Ludenbaum has taken so many pre- 
cautions. He must have even jumped over this hedge.” 
With this, agile as a cat, Ata springs lightly over the 
matted foliage and whispers to me : “ Come ! ” 

I follow him, but with so much difficulty that I 


JACK CURZON. 


133 


wonder how the German with his more cumbrous bulk 
and fat paunch ever contrived to struggle over. “ You 
are sure he crossed here ? ” I ask under my breath. 

“His scent is on the other side. The odor of the 
anaconda comes strongly,” whispers the Tagal, “but 
quiet now ! ” 

So, I follow him cautiously along a little path to a 
hut of nipa palms, at the door of which, under a big 
cocoanut tree, sits smoking a Chinese fisherman, who 
rises in the polite way of his nation. 

‘ ‘ What are your wishes, Senors ? Do you want fresh 
fish .? I shall haul my nets at daybreak,” he says, 
rolling another cigarette. 

At this greeting the Tagal, like a hound off the scent, 
seems astounded, and I, stepping forward, remark that 
we thought we saw a snake coming into the grounds, 
and pursued it. 

“By the sun, Tm glad you didn’t catch it,” cries the 
fisherman. “ He is my pet house snake, a young 
anaconda I bought but two weeks ago. He has 
cleaned my house out of rats.” 

Whereupon remembering that nearly every house of 
palm leaf construction and thatched roofs have their 
rat snakes in Manila,* the only thing which keeps 
down the big rodents from the adj'acent rice swamps, 
and remembering with a kind of shiver that there were 
two above my head when I lived in a summer house 
at Paco which used to keep me awake at night with 
their writhings and twistings as they captured and 
feasted on the vermin, and then went torpid for two 
or three days after each great meal, I burst out into 
a laugh. 

I can’t help my merriment, though my companion 
of the wondrous nose seems to be disgusted with his 
mistake. 

“ In that case we will let your anaconda live,” I 
remark. “ I feared it might be one of the rice snakes, 
whose bite is death.” 

* Nearly all the older bungalows in Manila possess what are 
called house snakes, huge reptiles generally about twelve or four- 
teen feet long. These live on the rats. The only way to get rid of 
rats seems to be to buy snakes, and this is simple enough, for you 
often see the natives hawking them around in town, the boas 
curled up around bamboo poles to which their heads are tied. — 
Joseph Earl Stevens' Yesterdays in the Philippines. 


134 


JACK CURZON. 


“Ah Malditos daghong-palays T’ mutters the China- 
man, “ one of my little children died from them, but 
Pepe my gentle anaconda, is more harmless than a cat 
and twice as etfective.” 

So we pass away into the road again, Ata Tonga 
cursing in strange Malay oaths and muttering : “ Fool 
of fools that I was. I should have noted that the scent 
of the snake went through the orange hedge, not over 
it. But no more mistakes! Trust me; don’t laugh at 
me ! ” All the time he is circling the lane like a fox- 
hound beating cover. 

“Ah, I have it!" he whispers. “The snake 
crossed Ludenbaum’s path here. Here go his steps 
and here is the smell of the Mestizo. Come on, we 
have lost important time. Speed means everything.” 

He fairly runs along the scent, as we follow a narrow 
lane which here crosses by a bamboo bridge a creek 
running in from the Bay of Manila, the sound of whose 
waves we can hear at a little distance. Then turning 
up a weed-grown, jungle-covered pathway towards 
the right, Ata puts his finger on his lips. 

I coming to him, he presses me down beside him, and 
points to a light that issues faintly from a large thatched 
shed or warehouse through the chinks in its palm 
thatching. Crouching on my hands and knees I 
follow after him, making as little noise as possible, 
though too much to please the savage, who looks at me 
warningly ; for his lithe steps and facile hands give no 
danger signal from breaking twig or crumpling leaf 
or misplaced pebble. So I creep with the gliding 
Tagal to the old storehouse, and through a rent in a 
broken palm leaf in its decaying wall, look in upon a 
man I have grown to regard as my enemy. 

Theshed is a large one and apparently used for the 
storage of hemp and tobacco, bales of these being 
piled everywhere about. In one corner nearest to the 
little rent in the withered palm leaves, which permits 
our eyes to gaze 6n the interior of the dwelling, is a 
railed off portion apparently for some shipping clerk to 
give receipts for goods delivered or to receive the 
same for merchandise taken away by teamsters and 
coolies. Within this railing, scarce over arm's length 
from us, are a small bamboo table and two broken 
down cane stools. Upon the table is a kerosene lamp 


JACK CURZON. 135 

burning rather brightly, its flame undisturbed by gust 
of wind, for the night is very still. 

Seated on these stools, opposite each other, are 
Ludenbaum and the Mestizo who had looked over his 
shoulder at the cock-fight. 

Their manner is nervous ; at times I see the Ger- 
man’s hands quiver. He even starts at the buzzing of 
a mosquito, and there are many. 

Their words are low and cautious, but we are so 
close, we hear them. “These!” whispers the Ger- 
man, with a wave of his hand that seems to tremble 
as he makes the gesture. 

“ Here ? ” says the Mestizo, a glare of joy in his ex- 
pressive face. ‘ ‘ Gracias a Dios, here .? ” 

“Yes. These are the rifles with which to arm ” 

But Adolph checks himself, his voice seeming to choke 
him. 

“ The ones we contracted for you to deliver us in 
the suburbs of Manila } ” mutters the Mestizo pointedly. 

^^Verflucht! Yes!” 

“ The Spaniards don't suspect } ” 

“ No ; donnerwetter ^ I am sure of that. Do you think 
I would dare be here if I thought Polavieja guessed ? 
The arms were brought here very cautiously at night 
by the boats of the — never mind what boats.” 

“Pha,” laughs the Mestizo, “I know. Then he 
jeers : “Why do you Germans wish us to defeat the 
Spaniards ? Is it that after we gain independence, 
may gain us ? These islands are fair ; are rich ! 
Shall we in destroying our Spanish masters only make 

way for German tyrants ? If I thought that ” and 

the man puts his hand upon a long murderous boAie 
knife. 

j Mein Gott, it is not dat ! ” mutters Adolph nerv- 
ously. “We only want a few privileges of trade 
from you. That is all. I have been promised a mo- 
nopoly of hemp in Manila by Aguinaldo. That is 
enough for me, a German merchant.” 

“Now, with regard to the other arms?” says the 
Mestizo insurgent speaking hastily. 

“Yes, the ones I privately for the German Trading 
Company delivered to your chief Santallano on Subig 
I Bay, one hundred cases of small arms and ammunition, 

! two Vapid-fire guns ; another cargo by the A/ucia steamer 


JACK CURZON. 


13^ 

as per arrangement, which I landed on the southern 
coast near Batangas, which rifles and ammunition and 
three field-pieces Aguinaldo now has. For these you 
have been instructed to receipt to me.” 

“Yes, those were my orders when I came here.” 

“ Then sign these receipts. I have written them out 
carefully. It is necessary for The German Trading 
Company.” 

' ‘ If found upon you in your handwriting ? ” grins 
the Mestizo. 

Donnerweiterj dare I trust a clerk to make ’em for 
me ? ” growls the Prussian. 

“ Bearing my name — these are your death,” whispers 
the Insurgent agent. “ You dare take these ? ” 

“ I dare take anything to save two hundred thousand 
thalers, which The German Trading Company will not 
pay me until I show them the receipts,” says Luden- 
baum ; then adds hurriedly: “Sign!” and produces 
from his pocket a stylographic pen. 

Reading the papers over rapidly but carefully the 
Mestizo writes his name upon them ; then as he puts 
the receipts on the table asks again excitedly: “All 
these packages contain arms ” and waves his hand 
about the place. 

^‘No, only the hundred bundles piled on this side.” 
The German walks to the left of the store shed and puts 
his hands on the bales of hemp and tobacco. “These 
— these are the arms which your men can get here ; forty 
rifles in each, one hundred rounds of ammunition for 
each gun in each bale. You understand?” 

“ Caramha, let me be sure I ” The rebel springs to 
the side of the German, hastily rips open a bale of 
hemp, and discovering the long barrels of rifles and the 
cases of cartridges, breaks out joyously and excitedly : 
“ God be praised. Here in this town 1 Now we can 
confound the Spaniards ! ” 

“You will use them here? For what?” asks 
Adolph in startled curiosity. 

“That’s my business I You have delivered them, 
Caspita, that’s yours.” 

And by the pale light of the lamp I see the Filipino 
patriot’s face illuminated with a great and mighty joy ; 
then gazing at the face of Ata Tonga I note in his also 
a kind of wonder, but a kind of ecstasy. 


JACK CURZON. 137 

Then suddenly all becomes dark. A gust of wind 
apparently has blown out the lamp. 

I think it very curious ; there is no breeze outside, 
but the lamp has certainly gone out. 

“ Ah, we will light it again. This vile kerosene im- 
ported under contract with the Spanish Government is 
half water," I can hear the German muttering, as he 
scratches some matches upon the walls and after a 
minute relights the lamp. 

“Now, Herr Filipino, these papers, and then good- 
bye ! " He turns towards the table, but suddenly 
mutters: “The receipts! Have you put them in 
your pocket ? " 

“Did I not leave them on the table ? ” 

“No, they are not here." 

“Ah, then they must have been blown on the floor. 
Have you not them with you.? Surely you placed 
them in your pocket-book. Dws mio, you must have 
placed them in your pocket-book," remarks the Insur- 
gent envoy as the two place the lamp upon the floor 
and search hurriedly and anxiously. 

A moment after he cries : “ Santa Maria, you must 
have them with you, German." 

“No, no! Mein Gott, they are not here! Look in 
your pocket." 

“ I have not them with me.” 

‘ ‘ Where are they ? " 

“ Did you not hear a rustling ? ” 

“ Oh yes, I thought it was some cursed house snake 
after rats." 

“ Dios mio, they are gone ! If the Spaniards get us 
— both of us ” 

‘ ‘ Ein tausend Tempels ! Some Spanish spy ! " 

Dios mio, an espia of Polavieja’s ! " 

By the dim light of the lamp I can see their faces are 
deathly and they both shudder, the patriot and the man 
of commerce. 

‘ ‘ Herr Gott Himmel Donnerwetter I " shudders the Ger- 
man. ‘ ‘ We must be away from here before we are lost. " 

And the two, throwing open the door, hurry with 
trembling steps out into the night air and disappear in 
the gloom like fleeiilg phantoms. 

Ten seconds after we stand where the German and 
the Rebel envoy had stood ! 


JACK CURZON. 


138 

And I, seeing by the still burning lamp Ata’s face, 
whisper merrily: “Thank God! This gives us a 
grand hold upon the German. I can crush him as I 
would a fly.” 

But he, gazing at me, mutters : ‘ ‘ Grand Dios I I 
can’t save my beloved mistress I This gives me no 
hold upon him. ” 

“Why not ? ” 

“Think of my country.” 

“ Think of Maud Gordon I ” 

“Think of my brothers in arms I Englishman, re- 
member them 1 ” whispers the Tagal, his voice pathetic 
with patriotism, his eyes blazing with the joy of hope. 
“ When we first began this war against the Spaniards, 
I wept for my brothers who fought with bolas and 
spears and even bows and arrows against repeating 
rifles 1 With iron water-pipes wound with wire we 
made puny guns to answer the steel rapid-fire cannon of 
our tyrants. Then to me suddenly and to all of us 
came outside aid. We didn’t ask why. We had no 
money I The estates of the richest of us had been 
confiscated ; still to us came arms, good arms, long 
range rifles, bullets that kill, cannon that made us 
equal, sometimes superior to our enemies. We didn’t 
ask what good angel of an outside nation did this for 
us I All we knew was that God had placed in our 
hands arms with which to slay our butchers ! Now 
I know why these four thousand guns are here. These 
are to arm the Pasig River boatmen I I came into the 
city to arrange their grand uprising together with the 
Carabineros Rurales, Tagals every man, all of whom 
carry Spanish guns. By Cambunian, I'll not strike 
down their effort to be free ! Not even to destroy the 
German, not even for the sake of my darling mistress.” 

“Then I’ll do it for you I ” I answer, my voice hoarse 
with triumph. 

“Not on your oath, not on your life, brother Kati- 
punan I ” commands the patriot savage sternly. “No 
word of this until these guns have opened on the Span- 
iards in the streets of Binondo, in the Plaza Major of 
the Old Town, until the flag of. the Flipinos floats 
over the Citadel of Santiago 1 ” His voice is hot with 
passion ; his eyes are great with love of country. 
Then after a moment he goes on, forcing himself to 


JACK CURZON. 


m 

calmness: “Besides, I couldn’t sacrifice the German 
without betraying one whom I have never met before, 
but whom I now know as Atachio, a brother patriot. 
No, no, the German’s safe from me at present.” 

“ Then what you are going to do with those receipts 
your agile hand and cunning glide stole when you blew 
out the lamp, Ata .? ” I ask eagerly. 

The savage gazes at me astounded. “I have not 
taken those receipts,” he falters. “I thought your 
hand seized them.” 

“By Heaven, no ! ” 

“Then Madre de Dios, who has stolen them.? 
A-a-a-h!” The savage is drawing the air into his 
mighty nostrils in great gulps. He has given a faint 
cry. “There has been another here !” he whispers, 
and dilates his nose again. “A Chinaman ! Carrajo, 
it is the smell of the Americanized dandy who con- 
cealed you that night in Hong Kong, the beef eater ! ” 

“ Ah Khy ! ” I gasp, and sink astounded upon a bale 
of tobacco in which half a hundred rifles clink as I 
flounder over them. 


CHAPTER XII. 

HERR LUDENBAUM TAKES BREAKFAST ON THE ANCONA. 

Maldlio ! This Chinese spy must never escape to 
give his news of concealed arms, and deliver those 
documents to the Spanish. He has had no chance to 
leave the building. Englishman, remember your 
blood-brotherhood-oath of the Katipunan, and guard 
the door ! ” whispers the Tagal, and his voice has 
death in it. 

“ If Ah Khy once goes to blabbing to the Spaniards, 
there’s no telling where he’ll stop.” As this passes 
through my mind I spring to the entrance and bar 
with my revolver all exit from the warehouse, then 
watch, mid the half discernible piles of leaf tobacco 
and great bales of hemp stacked tier upon tier about 
the gloomy shed, a ferret chasing a fleeing rat. 

The sensitive nose of the Tagal takes up the scent 
of the lurking Chinaman, and follows it around long 
passages between the bales of produce into a remote 


140 


JACK CURZON. 


hiding-place^ from which the pursued escapes, his 
little gasps of fear dying away in the darkness. Then 
I can hear the light tread of the savage sure in the 
darkness as a bloodhound and remorseless as fate, 
tracking the snake-like glides of the despairing Khy, 
till I, in very pity, call: “Surrender, you fool, and 
save your life ! ” 

Perchance the great knife of the Tagal is getting too 
near him, perhaps the Chinaman feels safety can come 
only from me ; for suddenly out he darts from the piles 
of merchandise, and throws himself at my feet, gasp- 
ing in piteous voice: “Save me. Jack ! Keep that 
bloody Tagal thug from laying me out ! ” 

Over him is standing the Filipino, his eyes blazing 
with the love of country, upon whose altar he will 
make sacrifice ; for he is snarling : “ Spy of the Span- 
iard, thy time has come ! ” 

But I, springing between them, seize his hand and 
say : “ Not yet ! Listen to me, Ata Tonga. Let us see 
if we can’t permit this harmless fellow to live." 

“ An espia, harmless } Impossible ! " 

“ He is no spy of the Spaniards. This is merely a 
matter of private revenge ; about the same that brought 
us here to-night," I whisper. 

“ Santo Domingo, impossible ! " 

“True as that you scented him that night in Hong 
Kong." With this I give the Tagal in few words Ah 
Khy’s connection with me, his father’s hatred of the 
German and his motives for pursuing Ludenbaum 
here. 

“True, it is hard to butcher a bellowing calf," mut- 
ters the Malay, for the plaintive Khy has punctuated 
my narrative with many moans and several writhings. 
“But now for this man to destroy the German would 
be to destroy the cause of my country. I dare not 
let him go ! " 

“You must!" 

“Well, then, I will give him one chance for his i 
life." i 

“That is?" I whisper. 

“ He shall become a Katipunan I " mutters the con- 
spirator grimly. 

“No, no, by the Gods of my fathers ! ’’ screams the 
Chinaman, in hideous terror, “don’t make me that! 


JACK CURZON. 


I4I 

The Spaniards slay all with that mark upon them. A 
court-martial convicts on that and shoots quick as 
greased lightning.” 

“Would you die here or live until the court-martial 
catches you ? ” whispers the Tagal menacingly. 

“I’ll — ril take the chances of their catching me. 
Holy poker, keep your knife away ! ” whines the 
Chinaman, for the Filipino’s blade is now at his jug- 
ular. 

“ Then the three receipts you stole ! ” 

“Of course! But, oh jimminy I my governor will 
never forgive me for surrendering them. They would 
have smashed the German.” 

‘ ‘ Diablo, do you want to die or live .? '’ 

“ Here are the receipts,” shivers Khy. 

“And now the oath. Senor Curzon, your veins I 
want as well as mine. The blood brotherhood de- 
mands it.” 

Compelled to stand as brother to this savage who 
gave me life under almost similar circumstances, I go 
through with him in the dim light of the lamp the 
hideous ceremony of making the shuddering Khy a 
Katipunan. With the mystic knife covered with sym- 
bols, Ata Tonga innoculates him with the blood of the 
Filipino Society upon his left elbow. Then gives 
him words of warning: “Now one of us, you can 
never be true to any other. If the Spaniards dis- 
cover, you are dead. If you betray us, you are dead 
likewise. Forget your oath,” he launches upon him 
the great Tinguanian curse, may you die while you 
sleep I ” * 

“By Josh!” mutters Khy, whom this anathema 
doesn’t seem to affect half as much as the knife, blink- 
ing his eyes at me, “Jack, you jumped into the same 
boat that night in Hong Kong, eh? ” 

“Yes, look outthat you don’t capsize it. The water 
here is full of sharks,” I whisper warningly. 

I catch on, firing party, Luneta in early morning, 
exciting execution — oh my God!” shivers the China- 
man, and sinks upon his knees in kind of despairing 
fear. 

* This is the great Tinguanian curse. It means : May you get no 
glory from your death. Sir John Bowring’s notes of the Philip- 
pines, 1854 . — Ed. 


142 


JACK CURZON. 


“ Here is what will add to your terrors ! ” laughs the 
Tagal grimly. “ Brother Khy, guard Ludenbaum's re- 
ceipts for arms ! ” He forces the papers into the shud- 
dering Chinaman’s hand. “You’ll never dare blab of 
these to the Spaniards while this war lasts. But if our 
revolution fail, destroy the German with the record of 
his treachery to Spain ! Our sign upon your arm will 
keep your lips well closed till then. Now, Brothers, let 
us leave here ; the light may attract attention. We 
must not risk the safety of these weapons which are for 
a sacred purpose.” 

As Ata Tonga extinguishes the lamp, I step out of the 
shed, Khy following close behind me and the Tagal 
making the last of our party. 

Then we return separately through the streets of 
the Tondo into the busy parts of Manila, going each 
by himself, as an English merchant with a native 
would create comment, and were the two accom- 
panied by a Chinese of the lowest order, even greater 
curiosity would come. For Khy has dogged the Ger- 
man’s footsteps garbed as a carrying coolie of the 
poorest class, even bearing over his dirty shoulders 
a long bamboo pole to which are attached wicker 
baskets containing fruit and fish to give him the 
appearance of a Chinese peddler. These he has left 
just inside the compound by the side of the lane, and 
when he returns there replaces them upon his shoul- 
ders with a groan, for to carry aught but the heaviest 
load would bring suspicion on any Chinese coolie. 

As we separate the Malay whispers to me : “ Where 

can I meet you ? ” 

I can’t tell him at the English Club, so I whisper : 
“At my private office, Plaza de Cervantes. I’ll await 
you there in half an hour. ” 

‘‘ Thanks, Brother, be prompt, for I have much to do 
before the morning, and must speak to you words 
which bear on the safety this day of my beloved mis- 
tress.” 

His tones impress me. 

So I tramp alone through the Tondo, and fortunately 
catching a carromata in one of the outlying streets of 
Binondo, my evening’s adventureshaving fatigued me, 
I find myself standing under the sign of Martin, Thomp- 
son & Co. some few moments in advance of the Tagal, 


JACK CURZON. 143 

who comes along with that gliding savage tread that 
no exertion seems to affect. 

Two minutes after Ata Tonga bars and locks the 
doors of my front counting-room, then secures those of 
my private office, and after snuffing about suspiciously, 
remarks: “Sehor, we are alone."' Then with the 
blinds drawn down, though it is a burning night, for 
fear of words slipping through the open casements to 
the streets below, my fellow conspirator and I con- 
front each other, and he astounds me with his reveal- 
ing. 

“ My words, Brother, shall be open to you ; my 
mind, also my heart," he says shortly. “When I 
came into this town under a special mission to arouse 
and perfect an organization of the Pasig boatmen, and 
likewise the Carahineros Rurales^ who revolt to-day ? " 

“To-day?" I gasp. 

“ Yes ; it is already midnight, and now the twenty- 
sixth of February ! To-day they rise ! Those arms 
you saw were for the Pasig boatmen, but the weapons 
were not my part of the affair. Tve a meeting with 
Atachio in the morning, and then he will arrange that 
detail with me. Atachio handled the German whom I 
thought was a smuggler of merchandise, but who, God 
be praised, was a smuggler of arms for my brave 
fellows. Still this impresses me with the powerful in- 
fluence the accursed Ludenbaum must have with my 
Society ; /or he has armed them ! It is, I now guess, 
at his covert suggestion, that I was compelled to give 
Senorita Maud her orders to come at once to Manila on 
her arrival in Hong Kong. I have now other directions 
for her which I shall not deliver . " 

“You will break your oath of the Katipunan ? " 

“ For her sake, yes ! " 

“You will forfeit your life if they discover." 

“ Dios mio, cierto I but it will be to save hers. For 
my country's sake this German I must spare for the 
moment, but my own life is still, as it will ever be, at 
the command of my lady whose breath is of the wild 
roses. Senor Englishman, will you be equally true to 
her?" 

“Yes ! " I whisper. 

“Then my orders from the Katipunan were to charge 
Senorita Maud that she should in some way contrive 


144 


JACK CURZON. 


that Colonel Robles, a most energetic officer, the 
commander of the CarabineroSy should be at her house at 
six o’clock this evening.” 

“ How was she to do it ” 

“Robles is among others a worshiper at the shrine 
of her great beauty. No man looks more longingly upon 
her loveliness as she drives on the Luneta than this 
same Robles.” 

“ Yes, I have seen it ! ” 

'' Caspita; Sehorita Maud is a bright enough candle to 
draw a swarm of butterflies. My poor lady is trying to 
get some influence among the Spaniards to save her 
father. It s a futile hope, but it’s a woman’s. This 
Robles, I believe, adores her. A little note asking him 
to call will be enough to take him from his barracks 
to her bright eyes. The town is quiet, only routine 
guard duty being done.” 

“Aha ! So that he will not be present when his 
troops rise in mutiny } ” 

DiablOy yQs\ His men love him so much they 
hate to shoot him down. This is the way we shall 
do it. At five in the afternoon the gathering of the 
Carabineros as they come in from outpost duty. They 
are all armed, with long shooting Spanish rifles. At 
six they are called together for parade. It’s the usual 
order. On the words “ Compa?iia alerta I ” each 
company kills its captain and lieutenants and such 
non-commissioned officers as are not with them in their 
uprising. With that they march to the river, where 
the Pasig boatmen, who have by this time received 
their arms, led by me, join them. Then fire and blood 
comes over this town. On the instant we rush the 
bridge to old Manila, and fight the Spanish garrison 
weakened by the immense drafts of troops sent to their 
generals in the field. By an unexpected blow we hope 
to take the Citadel of Santiago ! Now if at the very 
moment his regiment revolts Senorita Maud lures a 
Spanish Colonel from his post of duty ; should we fail, 
what a hold the knowledge of her action will give this 
German over her.” 

“But you will not deliver the Katipunan order.?” I 
mutter. 

“Still some other may,” whispers the Tagal. “ To 
destroy this chance, do you, after making show of 


JACK CURZON. 


1 45 

business here this day, drive about five this afternoon 
to the villa of Don Silas, and watch over Senorita Maud. 
See that no communication comes to her. Prevent 
her from going out. If necessary, you can assert that 
my dear mistress, in this day of fighting and turmoil, 
knew naught of what led up to it.” Then he asks me 
quickly : “ You are sure you can trust the Chinaman ? ” 

“As certain, now that he is branded with the Filipino 
mark, as I can you. Even more, for Khy would never 
take the chances you do,” I remark ; then ask eagerly, 
for this conspiracy is getting in my veins : “And how 
about Robles ? ” 

“ I will take care of the Spanish Colonel ! ” 

“ You are sure of that ? ” 

“ mutters the Tagal. “To-night you see 
me master of Manila, or you see me no more. Tell my 
lady, Ata Tonga kisses her hand. ” And the patriot 
savage leaves me, with information in my head for 
which I have no doubt the governor of this city would 
give almost his existence. 

It is growing towards morning. I worry the night 
out on a cane settee in my private office, though 
little sleep comes to me. As soon as the town is 
stirring I step over to the French restaurant and find 
that a cup of coffee stimulates my system and braces 
my nerves. The mercantile houses are just getting 
opened and the clerks going to work. 

About this time it occurs to me that Fll see how our 
German friend has endured the terrors of last night. A 
casual call at Ludenbaum's office in search of informa- 
tion as to the freight charges of a vessel the Prussian 
merchant is despatching to the Sulu Islands, reveals 
to me almost immediately that Ludenbaum has taken 
refuge on a German warship that is now lying off the 
breakwater. 

“ Our esteemed Herr Adolph,” his blond book-keeper 
remarks to me, “ was invited to breakfast on the Ancona 
by the ward-room officers.” 

“Ah, then Til see him in the evening,” I suggest, 
“when he comes on shore.” 

“That will be impossible! Herr Curzon, my prin- 
cipal told me he would probably spend a few days with 
his friends of the warship. They make a little cruise 
to Cebu and Samar.” 

lO 


146 


JACK CURZON. 


‘'So, then he won’t be back to bless us for a week,” 
I remark jocularly. 

“ No ; perhaps not for ten days.” 

‘ ‘ Well, I hope he’ll have a pleasant trip, ” I say grimly, 
and stepping out cogitate : ‘ ‘ Bolted ! in terror of those 
stolen receipts. By George, Ludy knew if they once 
got into Spanish hands, a court-martial, despite the 
German Consul, might make mighty short work of 
him.” Then I wonder if the Filipino patriot who 
signed them has been equally frightened and fled 
from the town. This may be the ruin of Ata Tonga’s 
uprising of the Carabineros and Pasig boatmen. 


CHAPTER XIII. 

THE MUTINY OF THE CARABINEROS. 

But this reflection reminds me of my promise to my 
brother Katipunan. I go back to Martin, Thompson 
& Co.’s, and — shall I confess it — my hand trembles 
slightly as I sign the various documents submitted to 
me by my juniors. — I think of the awful things that 
may take place in this town to-day. Getting through 
with this as quickly as possible, I now want to give 
my confreres warning, so that they may be out of the 
way when bullets are flying. This must be done with- 
out disclosing that I anticipate an emeute. 

“ Have we the Ajax cleared.? ” I ask. 

“Yes, sir, she sails for Singapore by noon,” answers 
Budlong, my chief clerk. 

“ Well then I rather think we have finished business 
for the day, gentlemen. You can all get out and 
enjoy yourselves till to-morrow morning,” I return. 

As I step into a carromata that is waiting for me, I 
am pleased to see that my hint is being taken, and 
young Budlong and Charlie Stoors, my under clerks, 
as well as the Chinese porters and even that cursed pry- 
ing Antonio, are all going on their various ways re- 
joicing. 

Then driving out to my room at the English Club, 
I, worn out with the night’s work, contrive to sleep — 
but leave orders I am to be called promptly at 4 p. m. 


JACK CURZON. 147 

So at about five, I stroll over to the pretty Villa of 
Don Silas. 

As I walk the streets two or three things come to my ex- 
pectant eyes that are probably not observed by Spanish 
officials. The Pasig River is almost deserted, scarce a 
boat upon it above the bridges. Crowds of banca 
handlers and lighter men are traveling on foot or by 
tram-cars into the interior of Binondo. To my search- 
ing glance the faces of the rank and file of a detachment 
of the Carabineros which pass me marching from the 
fortifications towards their barracks have aa eager 
though determined look upon them. Their officers, 
who in their careless Spanish way are walking with 
cigarettes in their mouths, are chatting gaily, their 
steps as light as the refreshing evening breeze. 

As I reach the entrance of Bully Gordon’s bungalow, 
I look at my watch. It is now half-past five. In half 
an hour, according to Ata Tonga’s schedule, the tragedy 
at the barracks of the Carabineros Rurales will begin. 

I turn into the grounds that are separated by a high 
iron fence from the wide avenue that is here made cool 
by the shade of fire-trees, and find — I am just in time ! 

Senorita Maud, looking in her white dress like a 
superb swan, comes gliding through the bananas and 
bamboos towards the iron gates that permit access to 
the street. 

“Aha, Seiior Jack ! ” she says, extending her hand 
to me. “You — you have come to — to dinner? ” 

Her manner, despite her cordiality, seems embar- 
rassed. 

“ And you guessed my visit, so you haven’t driven to 
the Luneta f ” I query, attempting a little laugh. 

“Yes, I was just stepping to our front gate to ask 
another caballero to partake of our hospitality.” 

“Whom?” 

“Colonel Don Miguel Robles of the Carabineros, 
He is riding this way with his staff from outpost duty. 
I saw the dashing fellow from my window. But why 
do you look so curiously at me ? ” For at her words 
the laugh has left my face. 

“Rather a — a defiance of Manila convenances,” I 
mutter. 

“ Oh, Papa shall ask Don Miguel, not me. Besides 
we have other company present, Don Rafael the Cor- 


148 


JACK CURZON. 


regidor is up-stairs listening to Mazie's voice/' remarks 
the girl ; then cries : ‘ ‘ Quick ! Let me go, so I can call 
Papa ; I have scarcely time, I think I hear the clatter 
of their horses’ hoofs. ” 

“ I beg you not to invite Colonel Don Robles to your 
house this day.” 

“Why not.? ” says the Senorita haughtily, for I have 
seen a resolve in her face that makes me lay my hand 
upon her arm. 

“You have instructions ” I mutter. 

“Whose instructions? Not yours, mi caballero T' 
she breaks in ; then half begs : “ Don’t stop me ! San- 
iissima I What a tyrannical husband you will be to 
Mazie ! ” and stamps her pretty foot defiantly and 
calls: “Papa, come out and ask Colonel Don Miguel 
to stay to dinner.” 

But my hand is upon her dainty rebellious mouth. 
The next second she shudders from me, her face pale 
as death, and gasps : “ mio f what do you know 
of THIS ? ” 

For in my desperation I have suddenly given to her 
white hand the dread signal of the Katipunan. 

“ Enough to prevent your doing something that will 
perhaps give you death ! ” 

“ Who — who told you ? ” Her eyes have a kind of 
agonized astonishment in them. 

“ Ata Tonga. ” 

“ Aha ! ” 

“He warned me to come here to keep you from 
doing this thing that may destroy you. What devil 
has given you such instructions ? ” 

“ They came to me with the proper sign upon them. 
See ! The signal you should know.” The girl holds 
out to me a little letter which has the peculiar secret 
emblem of all communications from the leaders of 
the Filipino society. 

“ Who sent this ? ” 

“ Some head of the order of course.” 

“Now, what do you know about this affair ? ” I 
whisper ster nly. 

“Enough to be sure that I am keeping that hand- 
some, dashing Colonel Robles from his death ! ” answers 
the senorita. “Enough to know I am giving the insur- 
gents another chance this day in Manila ! Enough tO 


JACK CURZON. 


149 


know that if they triumph I need fear Spanish officials 
no more, neither I, nor my father, nor my sister. ” Then 
she breaks out at me, a little scream of rage in her soft 
voice: Dios mio, you have stopped my hand from 

doing this thing ! ” 

She has slipped past me and is about to run out to 
the gate to wave her handkerchief, for the clatter of 
hastily ridden horses has flown past us on the dusty 
road. Prevented by the luxuriance of the tropic 
shrubbery,' I have not seen them, but I know Colonel 
Don Miguel Robles is now well past us on his way to 
the barracks of the Carahineros, where his troops will 
mutiny within fifteen minutes. 

“You can’t call him back,” I mutter grimly as she 
returns from her attempt. ‘ ‘ Whatever his fate, Colonel 
Don Miguel Robles has gone to it ! ” To this I add 
hastily: “Quick! Let me destroy that letter which 
in Spanish hands would be fatal to you I ” and seize the 
fluttering paper from her grasp. 

Here a sweet but angry voice strikes us both with 
dismay. My dear little Mazie looking like a cool wood- 
pigeon in softest light blue gauzes, perchance hearing 
my tones in the garden, has run out and is gazing 
upon us with indignant eyes. 

My sister, my — my affianced ! ” she stammers un- 
believingly ; then whispers indignantly : “ Maud, why 
are you forever trying to break my heart } Why did 
you sneak here to meet the man of my love to give 
him a treacherous love note ? ” 

“No, no, Mazie,” cries her sister; then goes on 
sternly : “Don’t dare to misjudge either Jack or me. 
We are striving to protect, to guard you 1 ” 

To protect, to guard me Then you can let me 
'see that letter. Jack, give it to me ! You can trust it 
to my eyes if you are innocent.” 

As I look on them, I see the wondrous contrast in 
the character of these two sisters, both beautiful, both 
good, both charming, in mind, in body ; but one noble 
in that self-reliance travel and a modern education 
brings ; the other softer, perchance more clinging, 
perhaps even more lovable, yet her mind still im- 
mature and childlike under the influence of a medieval 
schooling and the restrictions that the ethics of Span- 
ish social life always place upon a woman. 


JACK CURZON. 


150 

Mazie’s eyes, big with entreaty, gaze on me, then on 
her sister in a kind of indescribable half-trusting, half- 
doubting pathos. 

Answering this, Maud speaks quickly and with 
noble resolution : “ You must show her that letter, 
Jack. Don't you see it is breaking our dear one's 
heart. No matter at what cost to me, let her read that 
note, I command you ! 

‘‘No, no," whispers Mazie impulsively. “Maud, if 
you say my Jack is true, I must believe you, dear. 
O Dios de mi madre I " she wails, “ to think you both 
false would break my heart a thousand times." Her 
eyes are full of unshed tears. 

“ Show her the letter ! " reiterates Maud imperiously. 

“ Do you know what this means to you ? ” I whisper, 
for I fear that Mazie’s unguarded lips may some day 
let slip a secret that will be fatal to the brave girl 
standing before me. 

“ Yes, yes, I command you ! " cries the elder maiden 
in generous self sacrifice. 

So I, unfolding the bit of paper, am about to give the 
life of her sister unto Mazie’s eyes, into Mazie's hands ; 
when of a sudden I pause, and Maud starts, her face 
growing pale. 

For unto us comes the suave voice of El Corregidor, 
saying: ''Aha, a billet-doux; for which sister, Senor 
Jack .? " There is a little crafty insinuation in his 
tones, for which I could strangle him, for it makes 
Mazie’s face twitch in anguish. 

The official’s sharp eyes have suspicion in them as 
they glance at the little paper. I know he has heard 
a portion of the interview and now dare not keep the 
letter for fear this crafty gentleman may in some way 
put his unscrupulous hands upon it. 

Besides Mazie must never see this now. The Corre- 
gidor would surely lure her sister’s secret from my affi- 
anced’s childlike lips. 

With the quick instinct that sometimes comes to man 
in the tight places of this world I answer half laugh- 
ingly : “This is for nobody’s eyes but mine!" Then 
drawing out a cigar, I illuminate it ; and smoking it 
lazily, between puffs, I light the letter, and watch as- 
cending in smoke and flame the missive that might un- 
der the eyes of a vengeful court-martial take the breath 


JACK CURZON. 


of life from out of the fair frame of the beautiful girl, 
who has given a little start and placed her hand upon 
her heart. 

Tears are in my eyes, though not from the cigar 
smoke. I feel as if I am burning up the trust of Mazie, 
for as I look upon her, my sweetheart gives a little 
frightened birdlike gasping “0-oh,'’ and puts her 
hands upon her fluttering bosom. Then she murmurs, 
her eyes growing frightened : “ Even though Maud 
told you to show it me ! Dios mio, you dared not let 
me read ! Was it a trick, Maud ; was it a trick? ” 

— ah, little secret, eh?’’ grins the Corregidor. 

There are many secrets now in this town — some of 
them hideous,” and gives a soft yet jeering laugh ; 
while the two sisters gaze upon each other, one’s lips 
half parted as if she wished, despite the fear of death, 
to whisper the truth and take the pangout of her loved 
one’s soul ; the other with eyes blazing from the fire of 
her heart that now I think for the first time really 
doubts her sister’s frankness and her affianced’s love. 

Suddenly one of the hideous secrets of this town is 
disclosed to us. 

To the turmoil of our beating hearts comes some- 
thing that makes us start and gaze about. 

It is the quick rattle of Mausers rising into the even- 
ing air. Then over this sounds sharply one quick 
signal gun from the Santiago fort ; then another ; then 
the church bells ring, peal on peal 1 next the cathedral 
of Old Manila gives out its clanging warning as small- 
arm volleys and dropping rifle shots come in those 
horrid crashes that say man’s life blood is flowing with 
every salvo. 

“ Santissima, they are fighting in the town ! ” cries 
Mazie and goes to telling her beads and crossing her- 
self. 

Maud probably guesses what it means, and I know 
certainly. It is the mutiny of the Carahineros Rurales. 
For now volley follows volley in quick succession, and 
the rattle of small arms becomes continuous. Then 
the bells sound again more wildly and two more guns 
come booming from the Santiago fort, as the servants, 
both men and women, from the lower story of the 
house, run into the garden screaming, and Don Silas 
flies out upon the upper balcony, in shirt sleeve dis- 


152 


JACK CURZON. 


habille, his evening cocktail in his hand, and shouts 
in excited joviality: Por Dios! I mean, by the 

Eternal ! The Dons are cutting each other’s throats 
again, eh, Jackie, my boy? ” 

Then as we listen — in some few minutes the sound of 
fighting gradually rolls away, and grows more distant, 
apparently traveling to the north through Tondo to- 
wards Malabon. 

Diantre ! I must go into the town to learn what 
deviltry is going on,” says Don Rafael excitedly, and 
orders his trembling coachman to bring out his vic- 
toria. 

“Please not yet,” murmurs Maud. “ It may be an 
outbreak. The Filipinos would scarcely spare ” 

“The Corregidor of Nueva Ecija,” grins that official. 
“ Yet the town was quiet. What made you guess it 
was an emeute, my pretty young lady?” There is 
suspicion in the gentleman’s suave voice. 

“There was an outbreak before,” replies Senorita 
Maud, “there might be one again.” 

“ Cielo, that is so ! I’ll remain here a little longer if 
charming Senorita Inez,” the Corregidor generally uses 
the Spanish names of the girls, “will favor me with a 
glance of her bright eyes.” 

Dios mio, will I not,” cries Mazie in savage, yet 
piquant vivacity ; then gives me a look of such re- 
proach that I would step towards her, but she jeers 
archly: “Perhaps we will have a letter between us, 
eh, Don Rafael?” and flits up the stairway followed by 
the Spaniard. 

So Maud and I stand in the shrubbery of the garden 
gazing at each other. Though the noise of the main 
fight has died away, a rattle of small-arms is coming 
up the street, and the servants have fled into the house 
for safety from stray bullets. 

“You should never have destroyed that letter,” cries 
the girl despairingly. “My God, my sister doubts 
me ! ” 

“Yes, but if that cursed Don Rafael had put his 
eyes upon it, it would certainly have meant your mili- 
tary punishment, perhaps your death,” I answer 
grimly — then add slowly : for the Spaniards are 

winning. ” 

‘‘What makes you think so ? ” 


JACK CURZON. 


*53 


Don't you hear how the firing has died away and 
yet none of it ever reached Old Manila, which they in- 
tended to take by a coup de main." 

I step through the shrubbery and looking down the 
road, remark : ‘ ‘ Even now a detached company of 

Carabineros are flying." 

“ Merciful Heaven ! Pursued by the Spanish troops," 
whispers Maud at my elbow. 

^‘Yes!" I mutter; then suddenly cry: Down 

for your life ! " and pull the girl under the hedge, for 
the volleys are coming thick, and the bullets are sing- 
ing in the air about us. Then I draw her deeper into 
the shrubbery and force her to lie down in a very 
jungle of great matted bamboo stems, for these Mauser 
slugs make little of going through a tree trunk ; 
though such is the indomitable curiosity of women, 
Maud would walk out into the road and see the 
fighting. 

While doing this I get enough glimpses of the com- 
bat to know some company of the mutinied Cara- 
bineros, that have been cut off from the bulk of their 
fellows, are now fighting their way out, the few that 
are left of them. Soon the turmoil and rattle turn into 
a side street and drift to the northeast towards Sam- 
paloc. All this time I see no Pasig boatmen nor Tondo 
rabble, armed or unarmed. 

Suddenly my heart stands still. Some of the bullets 
must have struck the house. 

With a muttered “My God, Mazie !" I run up the 
stairs. 

But I am met at the front entrance by my darling, 
who comes tripping onto the veranda, and drawing a 
cigarette from her coral lips, puffs out a fairy wreath 
of smoke, and strikes my heart by jeering: “Ay, 
ay, just thought of my danger, Senor Jack. I hope you 
took good care of Maud. Even now she seems to be 
wandering in a kind of aimless joy about that bamboo 
thicket. Did she utter little screams and cling to your 
protecting arm as the bullets whistled ? " 

“And you, Mazie," I say anxiously and tenderly, 
“ you didn't fear ? " 

“No, no, don’t dare to touch my hand!" She 
pulls her little fingers from my grasp. “Fear? I — 
the bullets ? Pooh, there are other things that sting 


154 


JACK CURZON. 


worse than Mauser pellets. Fear — this evening.? 
Santa Maria, why should I care to live. Diablo, don't 
dare to follow me, Senor ! Don Rafael is old, but at 
least he is too polite to burn up a billet-doux, and say 
to his affianced : ‘ It is my little secret ! ' Oh cielo, I 
thought I heard you swear.” 

For I am muttering anathemas under my breath. 

Then suddenly Mazie gives a little wounded cry. 

Dios, Maud is beckoning you. Go, caballero ! 
My sister’s foreign airs and graces need your attention. 
She seems to have brought a stock of fine lady nerves 
from Yankee Doodle or Hail Columbia, which is it ? ” 

“By Heaven, Mazie, you shall listen to me! shall 
believe me I ” 

“I'll believe you, Senor, when you show me that 
letter. ” 

“ Hang it, how can I do that.? ” 

“You should have thought of that before you burned 
it. Buenas noches, Senor.” And Mazie, putting up a 
stern little hand to prevent my following her, trips into 
the house, her retrousse nose in the air, and whistling 
between puffs of her cigarette, a new and abominable 
tune that Maud has brought with her from America, 
entitled : “You can’t play in my yard.” 

With this, smothering one or two execrations, I walk 
down the stairs again and say quite savagely to the 
beautiful creature in the bamboo thicket: “ Senorita 
Maud, you had better go into the house; your sister 
I think, is hysterical. All danger has passed.” 

But she mutters: “Hush!” and stands listening; 
then whispers: “It is a groan ; some one wounded 
in that banana grove ! ” With woman’s eagerness to 
minister to suffering she picks up her gauzy skirts and 
dashes through the feathery grasses followed by me. 

In the center of the thicket she pauses as if struck by 
a bullet. Her face grows pale as death. She gasps : 
“ O Dios, he has crawled to die a_t my feet ! ” and sinks 
upon her knees beside a man garbed as a Pasig boat- 
man, whose forehead is bloody, whose right arm is 
helpless. 

“My beloved lady,” comes to us in a voice that 
makes me start, “pardon me for shocking you — your 
tender heart. JBut — but it was the only place I could 
drag myself to, after I was shot down in the street 


JACK CURZON. 155 

fight ; and I didn’t wish to give those Spanish devils 
the pleasure of butchering me.” 

Then, for her soft hand is ministering to him, and 
she is muttering: “Ata, my Tagal boy, my faithful 
one,” the savage whispers: “Don’t touch me, dear 
mistress. My blood upon your garments might betray 
you to those who never spare, even women.” 

But what woman thinks of her safety when suffering 
man is before her. 

With a quick swish Maud drapes up her outer jupe 
and tears great bandages of soft white muslin from one 
of her under petticoats, while I hurriedly examine the 
wounded man, who seems for a moment dazed. 

But even as I do so, he half staggers to his feet and 
jeers : “ It is nothing : Dios tnio ! No Spaniard could 
kill me. A glancing wound about my head ; my skull 
is thick ; my arm perforated but not broken, also a 
little loss of blood.” 

“ You will live ! Ata, you will live ! ” whispers the 
girl joyously. 

Diablo ! To slay a good many Castilas,” says the 
undaunted creature. “I think the bullet that struck 
my head knocked the senses out of me for a few 
minutes, that’s all. — Adios, dear lady.” 

But Senorita Maud cries : “Keep him here. Jack ! ” 
for the Tagal would struggle off into the shrubbery. 
“ Wait for me ! ” she commands and glides cautiously 
to the house, while I bind up the rebel’s wounds. 

A moment after Maud is beside us again, saying : 
“No one saw me. Here are spirits to revive and 
water to refresh him.” 

So we pour down some whisky into the wounded 
man’s throat, which gives him strength, and bathe his 
head with water, which takes the fever from it. 

“Now to save you ! ” says the girl, her eyes aflame. 

“No, no, mistress whose perfume is of wild roses, 
you have too much peril upon your fair head for a rebel 
in arms to bring more to it.” 

“That shall be my office, Senorita Maud!” I 
whisper. “ I’ll save you, Ata, my boy 1 ” 

“God bless you, Jack!” cries the girl, giving me 
a grateful glance. 

Gracias Senor Ingles D' says the savage content- 
edly. Then he staggers up and after a moment’s 


JACK CURZON. 


156 

thought murmurs: “If you could contrive to have a 
boat for me at that lone cocoanut tree off that little 
point on the river bank. Once in the rice swamps 
and bamboo jungles across the Pasig, Ata Tonga will 
be as safe as an eagle on the mountain.’" 

“I’ll have one there in half an hour,” I answer. 
“It will be so dark then, the Spaniards can’t see us.” 

“ You are doing this for me ? ” whispers Maud. 

“ No, for a brave man, for a patriot. That is who 
I am doing it for,” I mutter, and stride hurriedly off to 
the English Club. 

The streets are now quiet as they always are after 
an outbreak. The timid have not yet left their hiding- 
places. 

Some few minutes later in the Club grounds, I wander 
down to the bank of the Pasig smoking a cigar in af- 
fected nonchalance. I doubt if any of the Club boys 
note my hand trembles very slightly. 

Here as good luck will have it, I see young Budlong 
pulling his skiff down the river. My under clerk has 
been taking advantage of his holiday and made a picnic 
of it, for there remain one or two unopened bottles of 
beer in the stern sheets, together with a flask of brandy 
and the remnants of a pretty generous lunch. 

“ Here, Jim,” I cry to my subordinate, “ aren’t you 
tired of rowing ? Ed like a try on the river, myself.” 

“ Tired of rowing ” snarls Budlong. “Blow me. 
I’ve been hid under a mud bank all day dodging 
Mauser bullets. What’s the row with the Spanish ? ” he 
asks excitedly. 

“ Oh, I think there’s been some uprising or mutiny 
of the troops, from the gossip in the Club,” I reply. 
“ Just jump out and make yourself lazy while I take a 
little exercise.” Then I call : “Here, boy, as/ingah 
for Mr. Budlong. 

And Budlong, stepping out and preparing to make 
himself very comfortable in one of those low cane 
seats that are so pleasant under the punkahs, I jump 
into the skiff and scull up the river. 

It is now fortunately growing very dark. In some 
ten minutes I am at the single cocoanut tree pointed 
out by the Tagal. 

Here I rest on my oars. A moment later I am 
cautiously signaled from a clump of jungle on the 


JACK CURZON. 


157 

bank. Answering this, a light step and the vibration 
of the boat, it being too dusky to see much, tell me 
that some one has boarded it. 

The next second a hand reaches mine and gives me, 
in the gloom, the signal of the Katipunan. 

“Now which way.?” I mutter, as I push out silently 
but rapidly from the shore. I know the river prettv 
well.” 

“Any way so long as I get across ! One place in 
the rice swamps is as good for me as another.” 

“ Very well,” I whisper as I row, “ strengthen your- 
self, Ata, my man, with the provisions. You probably 
have not eaten .? ” 

‘'Santa Maria, not a morsel since last night ! and I 
had forgotten all about my belly,” returns the Tagal, 
devouring ravenously the remains of Budlong s lunch 
and quaffing down the two bottles of beer in a jiffy. 

“You’d better take the brandy with you,” I suggest. 

“ Gracias, Senor,” and Ata deposits Budlong’s orna- 
mental flask in the breast of his yellow shirt. 

Then as I row across the river I get from him the 
details of the unfortunate revolt. 

“You failed I can see,” I whisper. 

“Diablo, yes! Through the trick of that accursed 
Chinese 1 ” 

“What.? AhKhy!” 

“ Cierto ! May he be trod over as he sleeps:* 
Atachio of course, thought the Chinaman a Spanish 
spy ; so unknown to me, within the hour that we left 
that storehouse, our Katipunan leader had the arms 
removed, then fled from the town. Therefore, I, this 
day, when I had gathered my Pasig boatmen, found, 
Maldito ! no weapons for them. Then the fire-eating 
Robles coming up, part of his men would not desert 
the Spanish Colonel, and defended him against the 
Carabineros mutineers. So most of them who had 

* This is regarded by the Tagals as a fearful insult. It is about 
equivalent in force to the Arabs’ “ May dogs defile the tomb of 
your father ! ” 

One of their most interesting superstitions is the belief that the 
soul of a man leaves his body during sleep and goes forth on some 
mysterious errand of its own. This idea was doubtless borrowed 
from the Buddhists, and one can offer no greater insult to a Tagal 
than to step over him while he lies asleep, which, according to his 
idea is getting between his body and his absent soul. — E d. 


JACK CURZON. 


158 

rebelled fought their way out through Tondo to Bula- 
can unless they were, cut off, for I heard a tremendous 
battle up there towards the north after they had left.’’ 

Here suddenly Ata pauses and mutters : “ Hush ! 
I smell a gun-boat ! ” 

“Smell it ? ” I g:asp. 

“Yes — the smoke! They are burning Nagasaki 
coal. It contains a little arsenic — the garlic odor al- 
ways reminds me of an appetizing pun^ero.'* 

A few moments after I hear the clank of machinery 
and believe the Tagal’s nose. So I sit very quiet, not 
daring to use my sculls, while the Spanish launch, 
armed with a rapid-fire gun, churns past us up the 
river. 

Fortunately in the darkness her men don’t see us, 
and she goes swashing up stream nearly colliding with 
a cocoanut raft or banca coming from Laguna, I can’t 
make out which in the gloom, though the swearing on 
the patrol boat is masterly. 

Some few minutes afterwards, we make landing near 
a low rice swamp upon the opposite side of the Pasig. 

Here the Tagal rises, and kissing my hand, says : 
“ May Cambunian give you all good gifts ; even the 
love of the beautiful girl who is yours.” 

But I answer this with a kind of groan, and he goes 
on : “ Some day, in other times, I may repay. Adios, 
my brother,” giving me a Tagal salute. 

“ You are surely safe? ” I ask anxiously. 

“ Yes, I have my bolo ; I have my pistol ; I have 
your flask of aguardiente to give me strength. In the 
rice swamps and the bamboo jungle, what Spaniard 
will follow Ata Tonga 1 ” and he disappears into the 
darkness making no rustle even in the matted foliage, 
and going as nearly as I can judge, in the direction of 
Paco. 

I row slowly and cautiously back to the English Club. 
Here I turn the skiff over to young Budlong, remark- 
ing : “ Thanks awfully ! I took the liberty of finishing 
up your lunch, and drinking your beer, old fellow.” 

“Yes, but how about that brandy flask ? ” returns 
my clerk, inspecting the stern sheets. 

“Why hang it,” I mutter, “ I’m afraid I must have 
somehow knocked it overboard.” 

“Oh, you did 1 ” cries Budlong ruefully. “ By gum, 


JACK CURZON. 


*59 


I borrowed that flask from young Sam Burlop. He’ll 
make an awful row about it. Dash it, old man, you 
should be more careful with a fellow's goods and 
chattels. " 

And Sammy Burlop does make an awful row about 
it. Happening to overhear this, he comes rushing 
down to the boat, and cries: ‘"Hang it! dash it I 
my God, that flask was an heirloom in our family. 
It was genuine Hall-mark-Sterling silver. It wouldn't 
surprise me if William the Conqueror had given it 
to us. By the Lord Mayor of London, I had our 
crest engraved upon it 1 My God, what shall I do ? 
My mother kissed it when she placed it in my hands.” 

“Do.?” I growl savagely, “buy another one like 
it on the Escolta, where you bought that one, or 
rather. I'll buy it for you,” and turn glumly towards 
the veranda of the Club, while Budlong sculls his skiff 
down to town. 

Taking post in the reading-room, I sit and listen to 
my chums and cronies telling what they know of the 
outbreak of the Carabineros which convulsed Manila 
for a day or two. 

All this is interspersed by little Burlop breaking in 
every now and again with sighs and mutterings. 
“My God, it was an heirloom 1 That flask had been 
in the family for generations and generations. Wil- 
liam the Conqueror gave it to my great-grandfather 
for a deed of ‘daring do.'” Little Sammy is getting 
drunk now. “That flask — you know that brandy 
flask, the one I gave you a drink out of yesterday, 
Cortwright I ” he screams ; and getting maudlin, keeps 
this thing up, for he is a persistent little sinner, until 
young Simpson of the English Consulate coming in 
with a very serious face, growls out at him: “By 
Heaven I groaning over a brandy flask when to-mor- 
row morning ninety men are to be shot on the 
Luneta.” 

And we gathering about him, he goes on in explana- 
tion : “Have you not heard? The mutineers would 
have got clean away, but, unfortunately for them, 
they were met by a lot of troops returning from Mala- 
bon, and after a sharp fight the rebels were dispersed 
and ninety odd of them captured. Poor devils, they 
will be shot at daybreak. ” 


i6o 


JACK CURZON. 


And I, at sunrise on the morrow, glancing over the 
faces of the dying men as they are drawn up to meet 
the firing parties, see not the face of Ata Tonga, and 
know that he has surely escaped, for on that day the 
Spanish executed every rebel captured in that out- 
break of the Carabineros, 


JACK CURZON. 


l6l 


BOOK III. 

THE TRIUMPH OF THE GERMAN. 

CHAPTER XIV. 

* * DID YOU GET THAT PACKAGE THROUGH THE CUSTOM 
HOUSE ? ” 

Returning moodily from this horror, I can’t elimi- 
nate the cruel scene from my head or my eyes, the 
whole morning. But in the afternoon, I think I’ll see 
how Khy, my brother Katipunan, has fared during the 
outbreak. 

To my inquiries at the main bazar of Hen Chick & 
Co. on the Rosario, the Mongolian bookkeeper, stop- 
ping for a moment his ceaseless clicking of the buttons 
of his abacus, remarks excitedly; “Ah Khy! You 
sabe Ah Khy 1 Him be/ly sick.” 

“Very sick? ” I say. “ He was well the day before 
yesterday.” 

“Ah, but him bel/y, belly sick now. The firing of 
the guns yesterday make Ah Khy shiver as if him had 
a cold-back. You sabe cold-back ? ” 

“Yes, I sabe cold-back,” I answer; and as I walk 
out I sabe exactly the kind of cold-back my co-con- 
spirator had. I imagine visions of that firing party on 
the Luneta this morning didn’t add to his comfort. 

But in the next few days Khy apparently recovers 
sufficiently to stroll the streets and air his dandy suits 
of white duck and single eyeglass on the Escolta, 
Luneta and Calzada San Sebastian, though he seems 
to keep away from me. As he passes me in the 
streets he shivers at me in a kind of dazed funk, and 
edges nervously from his brother member of the dread 
Katipunan, whose brand upon the arm Spain salutes 
with death. 

In the meantime my German friend, Herr Luden- 

II 


JACK CURZON. 


162 

baum, being of sterner mould, has apparently satis- 
fied himself that whether his receipts for arms blew 
away, or were destroyed, or whatever happened to 
them, there is not much danger of their now rising up 
against him in Manila. 

So the German warship Ancona, having made her 
cruise among the southern islands of the archipelago, 
anchoring again in the bay, Herr Adolph comes 
ashore, takes his place at his business house on the 
Plaza de Cervantes, resuming at the same time his 
father-like attentions to the beautiful young lady on the 
Calzada San Miguel. Of this, however, I don’t see quite 
so much as formerly, the English Club having moved 
to the Ermita, south of the old city, to get nearer 
sea breezes, and compelling me to travel farther to the 
villa which holds my divinity. 

During this time, the conflict drifts away from Man- 
ila. The town grows quiet again ; that deathly calm 
produced by martial law, where men don’t say much for 
fear of their words bringing them to a military justice 
which seems a Siva in its lust for blood. Yet all this 
while, the social gaiety of Manila — God knows, nothing 
but famine will stop Spanish mirth — goes on ; the band 
plays on the Luneta as sweetly ; the ponies prance as 
spiritedly ; the Caballeros doff their hats as gallantly, 
though the rebellion still rages like wildfire in the 
outside districts. 

The cool season drifts into the hot, the hot into the 
wet. During this interval, Polavieja is replaced as 
Captain-General by Primo de Rivera. This warrior 
brings with him from Spain six thousand fresh troops, 
and, better than the soldiers, a lot of money raised by 
a loan guaranteed by the customs. For, though 
Cavitd has been recaptured by aid of the fleet, the in- 
surgents are still in arms at Imus, and in scattered 
bands all over the country impress themselves upon 
the Spaniards with blood, fire and torture. 

And all this time the nasty complication about the 
Katipunan note, on the day of the outbreak of the Cara- 
hineros, affects disastrously my suit to Senorita Mazie 
Inez Gordon. Though Maud has patched up a truce 
for me, and Mazie has said sighingly : “Of course, I 
\ must believe!” still her manner to me is different, 
her lips don’t love mine as they used to. 


JACK CUR20N. 


163 

This kind of conduct from my affianced drives me 
to a savage, surly, bull-dog determination to marry 
her at once. That shall dispel any doubts Miss Mazie 
may have of my love, likewise of her sister’s supreme 
indifference to me. Though of this the beautiful Sen- 
orita Maud about this time gives ample proof, by per- 
mitting the intense devotion of another. 

With concern for the young American officer absent 
in North China waters, I note that his affianced enters 
into a flirtation bordering upon the dangerous with 
the dashing and amorous widower of the Supreme 
Court of Manila, Judge Don Amadeo de Torres, whose 
liveries are frequently seen in the garden before the 
house on the Calzada San Miguel. For by this time 
this dignitary’s attentions to the eldest daughter of 
“Bully" Gordon at teriulias^ receptions, dances, the 
theater, the opera, the Luneta, are so marked that fash- 
ionable Manila is talking its tongue out of its mouth. 

Herr Adolph notices the affair also with affright. At 
least a rueful conversation of his with the Corregidor 
that I by chance overhear as I sit in the shade of a 
palm on the veranda of Gordon's house one evening, 
indicates it. 

The two are smoking by themselves ; Miss Mazie 
being at the piano in the salon, her thumping being 
vigorous enough, they probably think, to prevent 
my overhearing them, Senorita Maud is some dis- 
tance away, holding a low conversation, apparently 
over her photographs of New York city, which she 
draws one by one from the big portfolio, with Don 
Amadeo de Torres, the judicial autocrat. 

'"Himmel, Kruez^ Donnerwetter ! growls the German 
under his breath. “Did you see dot, Don Rafadl. 
Dey pretend to examine photographs, so dot der 
amorous hands can touch each oder. The damned 
duenna is always asleep. If His Honor of the Su- 
preme Court takes affectation for dot designing love- 
liness, what will become of poor papa Ludenbaum .? " 

^^Caramha! What will become of El Corregidor?" 
replies Don Rafael, knocking off the ashes of his cigar 
uneasilv; Then he whispers, his lips seeming to grow 
pale : “'The judge will brush us out of the way like so 
many flies off his sugar. Dios mio, by her arts Sen- 
orita Maud may induce him to pursue and persecute 


164 


JACK CURZON. 


US. You remember what happened to those who sued 
for the property of the beautiful Dona Florencia de 
Guzeman. Santa Maria, they who would have ruined 
her fortune in the Supreme Court of Manila became 
beggars themselves.” 

‘ ‘ Verflucht mutters Adolph. ‘ ‘ Then we must turn 
our attention to the father. Drink has destroyed his 
subtleness, but mein leedle Maud, she is as deep as 
der sea, as beautiful as a Rhine daughter, and as 
wicked and determined as dot Brunhild.'’ 

“Wicked and determined ? ” whispers the Corregidor. 
“It is her superb beauty that I fear. No woman has 
struck fire from Don Amadeo’s icy heart but those 
whose loveliness have been tempting as Cleopatra's. 
For them only this judicial Caesar draws his sword of 
justice. But God help us if she induces him to flash 
his blade on us. Diablo ! Every entreating look from 
those exquisite eyes will mean a mortal blow to us. 
It is Senorita Maud’s charms we must dread. Is she 
willing to present them to His Honor for our undoing.? 
Dios mio I Sometimes I think she is too good for us 
to fear.” 

“Too good? Bah! Impossible! She has her 
fader’s blood in her,” whispers the German, a venom 
in his voice that astounds me. “How can she be 
any ting but wicked as a pirate?” 

But I agree with the Corregidor. 

Then, the conversation of these two gentlemen be- 
coming too low for me to distinguish any more of it, be- 
tween puffs of my cigar I gaze at the exquisite girl, 
who seems deeply in earnest as she, exhibiting the 
various photographs, whispers to the judge whose cold 
eyes light up in a burning and greedy longing as they 
follow her graceful gesticulations. 

For a kind of unearthly beauty blazes in Maud’s 
face, not that of passion, but of feverish excitement ; 
not that of healthy spirits nor enthusiastic youth, but 
that frenzy of the gamester who is staking her all, who 
is throwing her last throw, who is playing her final 
card. 

From this I turn away with a sigh. 

Appearances seem to be against this most fascinating 
young lady. 

As for the German and his Spanish friend this affair 


JACK CURZON. 


165 

of the judge seems to strike them with dismay and 
panic. From this time, a curious change seems to 
take place in their demeanor. They pay less attention 
to the young ladies and more to their father, who likes 
company in his cups. 

During the coming month, while Don Amadeo de 
Torres makes use of his judicial arts to captivate the 
beautiful Senorita Gordon, Herr Ludenbaum and the 
Corregidor pass many convivial hours with the old 
ex-sea-captain, gradually insinuating themselves into 
his drunken affections, and apparently putting some 
very nasty ideas into the besotted father’s head about 
the autocrat of the Supreme Court. 

This is indicated to me in a little conversation with 
which the ex-sea-dog favors me on a sunny afternoon, 
after the young ladies have come in from their drive to 
the Luneta, Don Amadeo’s carriage apparently having 
followed them home. Bully is striding about his 
garden nervously and comes to me as I drive in from 
the Calzada. 

“My little girls are in the dining-room dealing out 
chocolate and hunuelos to his judicial nibs,'’ he re- 
marks, in low and savage voice. “ Caramba f I mean 
damn it ! I’d like to poison him. You’d better go in 
there and hang on to your gal, my boy. Old Amadeo 
will be making love to both of them. Everything is 
fish that comes to his net.” 

“Aren’t you coming into the dining-room with 
me ? ” I suggest. 

No, For Bios f I mean by Heaven, I eat nothing 
now,” says the poor fellow. “Tonics are what I 
need. Four fingers of brandy does me for breakfast ; 
two or three nips of whiskey make my lunch; I dine 
when I get the brandy bottle in front of me again. 
Come in and have a tipple with me. Old Ludenbaum 
has become a jovial fellow once more, and even Don 
Rafadl now takes his toddy regular with me.” To this 
he adds : “Go in, Jack, and take a look at Maud play- 
ing her little game. God of Heaven ! It is her last 
stake, and the poor girl is doing it to save papa and 
sister, eh ? ” Then his eyes blaze up as they did on 
the quarter-deck of his vessel thirty years before, and 
he shocks me by whispering in my ear in drunken 
pathos ; ' ‘ By the Eternal ! If my daughter wins her 


JACK CURZON. 


1 66 

little game, damn me if I don't kill the judge of the 
Supreme Court of Manila." 

From him I turn away with a shudder but, thank 
God, think better of Maud than her drunken father 
does, for I can't bring myself to believe that for any 
stake on earth, even her own life, Maud Ysabel Gordon 
would do aught that would make her despise herself. 

I go in. My dear little Mazie in her white gauzes 
and laces looks pure as the dove of Heaven. Senorita 
Maud in more brilliant colors, is like a floating rain- 
bow. She is laughing with the judge, who is taking 
his hunuelo and chocolate quite docilely from her white 
hands — likewise some American commercial pamphlet. 
She is saying to him: “ Don Amadeo, I'm glad you 
ran in. Here is what I promised you," 

I glance at what she promised him, and it is 
entitled : “American investments, published by John 
H. Davis & Co., bankers and brokers. Wall Street, 
New York." 

Has this beautiful creature concealed in this book of 
finance some note of love ! The judge looks delighted 
as he receives it — Why shouldn't he ? Maud's lovely 
fingers have touched his amorous palm ? Still, I 
can't believe it, the girl has so true a face. 

But all this family uncertainty makes me doubly 
resolved, as each day passes, to call Mazie mine. So 
one bright evening after the typhoon season, as we 
are sitting in the caida, the Japanese screen and some 
palms giving us privacy, I press my suit, adding to it 
many subtle arguments such as: “The fiancee is 
jealous, but the wife must know she has the whole 
heart of the husband. After I have married you, dear 
Mazie, you cannot doubt there is no other woman on 
this earth for me ; no eyes like yours ; no lips like 
yours ! " 

** DioSy how I wish I believed," whispers the girl. 
“But since my sister came bearing the graces of the 
modern swim — that's what she calls it — I feel I am 
not like you, my Jackey, a citizen of the world." 

“That I wouldn't have you, /or the world. Your 
innocent naivete has greater charms for me than any 
fine lady airs." I glance at Senorita Maud, who, sur- 
rounded by two or three caballeroSy is displaying the 
latest New York fad in costumes, the big puff sleeves 


JACK CURZON. 


167 

of an evening robe that droop below her white shoul- 
ders and bulge out from her snowy arms like great gauzy 
balloons. 

San/oSj yes. Isn’t that frock horrible?” jeers 
Mazie ; then cries : “ No, I love it ! It is of the 

modern swim. Maud has brought me one like it, 
though I never dared to wear it, it is so peculiar.” 

Pish, English women wear them.” 

“Ah yes, but I am not English.” 

“You will be when you marry me, dear one.” 

“ But I have been told I mustn’t marry you, Senor 
Heretic.” 

“Aha, Padre de Laviga has spoken to you!” I 
snarl. 

“ My confessor has told me to marry only the man 
I love.” 

“And that’s I.” 

“ Caspita^ what a guesser you are,” says my sweet- 
heart archly. “But I have been told,” here tears 
come in her eyes, “that I’ll ruin my family if I wed 
you.” 

“Who gave you that precious information ? ” 

‘ ‘ El Corregidor. ” 

“Pooh,” I sneer, “what does Don Rafael amount 
to ? Now that Don Amadeo is here, El Corregidor 
sneaks back to your father’s sanctum.” 

“Yes, and gets drunk with him,” whispers Mazie. 

“And that Don Amadeo — I — I fear him! Jack, 
speak to Maud — reason with her. He comes every 
day now: They talk of things I don’t understand.” 
Her eyes are open in a kind of pathetic terror. “And 
Papa curses every time he sees him, but under his 
breath, and oh dear — he — he is coming now.” With 
this my sweetheart grows palely nervous as a Filipino 
servitor announces Don Amadeo de Torres, and the 
judge strolls in to pass a quiet evening under the smiles 
of Senorita Maud, who turns from the Caballeros on 
the balcony, a piquant witchery upon her face, and 
gives her judicial swain a veiled look that would fire 
the heart of an anchorite. 

In a few moments this judicial Romeo has a fair 
field to himself. 

Very shortly the gentlemen about Miss Maud make 
their bows' and take hasty departure, for by this time 


i68 


JACK CURZON. 


the apparently pronounced position of a man of his 
almost supreme power makes Mestizo cahalleros quite 
shy of affronting His Honor. They fear to be in con- 
tempt of a court whose rulings are at times so curious 
and erratic that they would make Blackstone shake 
in his grave and even a New York Police Justice roll 
his eyes and wonder “ Why the Boss had ordered it, 
and if the Bar Association wouldn’t impeach him for it. ” 

As for the gallant Colonel Robles, he probably 
would have cared naught for the judicial ermine, and 
stroked his long mustachios debonairly, and fought 
his battle in dashing military style for the favor of the 
Senorita whose eyes he loved, but he has gone to join 
the ranks of dead Conquistadores ; cut down by a 
Filipino bolo in a bush fight in Pampangas. 

So, perhaps moved by a kind of sickening sympathy 
for the absent American naval officer, I determine to 
favor the young lady with the advice of a man of the 
world. In this resolve I am strengthened by the de- 
spairing pathos of Maud’s soft voice as I chance to 
overhear her whisper to the ardent judge : Dios miOy 
anything is better than — than Spanish bonds.” 

Still I only dare approach the subject in a round- 
about, ambiguous way, for the beautiful and reckless 
one has now a very haughty gleam in her bright eyes 
whenever any one mentions Don Amadeo de Torres. 
Doubtless she has heard something of what Manila is 
whispering, though probably not very much, gossip 
of this kind being strictly the behind-your-back busi- 
ness. 

So His Honor having taken an amorous yet stately 
leave, I, who have been lingering with Miss Mazie 
on the balcony among a lot of convenient palm trees, 
whisper : ‘ ‘ Querida mia, you wished me to speak to 
your sister about a certain gentleman, eh, Mazie ? ” 

^‘Oh, so much. I have not dared to open my lips 
to Ysabel because — because — you see how she looks. 
But people say such awful things. The other day, at 
Senora Mendez’ house, I heard — of course, they didn’t 
mean it for my ears, people never do, you know, your 
friends never wish to break your heart,” she adds with a 
little whimper — “ that the beautiful Senora de Guzeman 
who Won her suit at law by Don Amadeo’s decision 
had to give up her good name for his favor. Such a 


JACK CURZON. 


169'' 

fearful insinuation I dare not mention to Maud, but, 
Jack, you might hint, suggest or beat about the bush! 
You — you are such a man of the world, so diplomatic, 
so astute, so at times mysterious/' 

“By Jove, you don't fear that burnt up letter now !" 
I say grimly. 

“ Who could fear a little piece of paper when Maud 
is making such a fool of herself with that horrible old 
Don Amadeo. So if you dare speak out what I dare 
not, just wander over to her. She looks romantic 
now and softer." 

“ For a kiss I'll do it, Mazie," I remark. 

“Well take it now, otherwise you might demand — 
what's that you commercial men call it — interest, com- 
pound interest. And two sweet little lips come to 
mine and make me wish that they would stay upon 
mine forever. 

“Quick," says the girl, “catch Maud while she is in 
the moonlight. The moon generally makes women 
tender. Touch her up about that gallant officer of 
whom she used to speak so much, but now, Santa 
Maria, scarce mentions ! " 

“I will," I say. Mentally thanking little Mazie for 
her astute hint, I conclude the best way to approach 
the subject of Don Amadeo is by the route of Phil 
Marston of the U. S. Navy. 

So I step along the big balcony, dodging three or 
four potted flowering plants and a few mosquitoes on 
the way, to arrive by the side of the haughty sinner, 
who seems to have a loveliness that might soften any 
one, even Phil Marston if he knew Miss Beauty had 
been playing with dainty fingers with the fire that 
burns. 

“I notice," I say softly, “that your eyes are now 
turned always towards the north, especially at romantic 
moments when the soft breezes of evening play about 
you and the moonlight adds sweet softness to a young 
maid's thoughts." • 

“What are you driving at.?" asks Maud with such 
a fierce directness, as she turns upon me, that I, for 
the moment, gaze upon her abashed. 

But as she has come to business, so will I. “Phil 
Marston," I answer, “up in North China waters! 
Hang it, if he could see you, looking as you do now 


70 


JACK CURZON. 


with that pearl fan tapping those coral lips, I don't 
think he’d stay there long.” 

“ Why not } A naval officer, and especially a young 
one on his first cruise, can’t easily get leave.” 

He could if he’s the ardent lover Phil ought to be. 
Even commodores are not always stern,” I say ; then 
suggest, a little banter in my tones : “'Thirty days’ 
leave. Six days from North China to Hong Kong, 
three days to come here, nine days to get back, two 
weeks of ecstacy at Manila.” 

Santtssima ! don’t torture me,” mutters the girl, 
giving me an awful yet entreating look. “ God knows 
I would give my soul to see him. But thank God 1 
have strength enough to keep him from me ! Do you 
suppose I let my gallant Phil know the fight I am mak- 
ing, when it would bring him, perhaps without the 
leave of his commander to fight my battle with me, for 
me. O foolish Englishman ! Do you guess I write to 
him who has my heart, about daily executions on the 
Luneta. Do you imagine I say to my sailor-boy : 
‘ Your affianced has been refused permit to leave this 
island ; she and her poor sister are chained here on a 
specious plea by the accursed Supreme Court, that they 
may be naked to their enemies ; that my poor father 
is drinking himself to death in despair at the fate that 
he feels is coming on his family.’ Pha, my darling 
would be here to die perhaps for me ! Nonsense ! 
Phil doubtless believes that half of the few reports 
which escape the censor’s pencil from this distracted 
island to the outer .world are lies. 

^‘h'or this is what his sweetheart writes to him on 
paper blotted with her tears. ‘ Everything is happy here 
and peaceable. The insurrection amounts to naught. 
Some savages up in the mountains, a hundred miles 
away, are doing a little fighting with the troops. Don’t 
fear for me, adored of my heart, I am as safe as I would 
be in great New York when an Indian raid takes place 
in Arizona.’ Dios mio ! to keep him quiet I have written : 

‘ In three months your affianced will be in Hong Kong. 
In three months you shall lead me to the altar. Don’t 
sacrifice your career to come here for a week and kiss 
me, when my next kisses to you will be a bride’s 
kisses.’ And every line is a vile lie that breaks mv 
heart ! ” ^ 


JACK CURZON. 


171 

In the moonlight her face is very pale, her eyes 
seem to be far away, I think, on the quarter-deck of 
the Petrel which her affianced is pacing in North 
China waters. Suddenly she turns to me, and says 
with that supernatural subtlety that women have : 
“What was your real reason for talking of my 
fiance 1 " 

In Senorita Maud’s present state of mind I don’t 
think it wise to approach the real reason. Therefore 
I answer her with one of her imported Yankeeisms, 
and laughingly remark : “ Guess again ! ” 

“Guess again.? I can guess!” she shoots out at 
me. “I know of what Mazie is frightened; I know 
what makes my poor drunken daddy curse so awfully. 
But don’t you dare hint it ! ” Her eyes blaze in 
haughty innocence. Then her beautiful face softens, 
she murmurs : “ You have been a good sweetheart to 
Mazie, Jack, and true friend to me, and as such, be 
assured Maud Ysabel Gordon, when she goes to her 
lover’s arms, will go as pure in spirit and in body, and 
just as full of love as ever bride whom orange blos- 
soms blessed.” Her face has an awful blush upon it 
but she goes on in a kind of sneering, diplomatic tone : 
“ As for this petite affair of mine with His Honor, it is 
too deep for even your commercial head to fathom, 
just yet. Your Anglo-Saxon mind would never guess 
the subtleties of Spanish methods. I fight — ” she 
waves her hand towards the back of the house from 
which sounds of joviality come, her father’s drunken 
chuckle, the German’s snorting laugh, the Corregidor’s 
suave merriment — “those treacherous villains with 
their own ignoble weapons. But don’t you dare hint 
that the dagger which I am driving deep into those 
two unsuspecting scoundrels’ backs, will sully my 
hand when I place it in my gallant Phil’s for him to 
place upon it the ring of marriage. By Heaven, that’s 
what I am fighting for, — my happiness ; your happiness 
too, my Cyclops, so that your bride can come to you.” 

“ What do you mean .? ” 

“ What I have always meant. El Corregidor ! Blind 
one, can’t you see? Buenas noches. Forgive me, you 
made me a little angry. And Jack, you got that packet 
that came for me to-day from New York via Hong 
Kong safely through the custom house ? ” 


172 


JACK CURZON. 


* * Why, yes ; of course ! " I say. “It contain ed only 
records of street railways and electric cars, together 
with some broker’s remarks about stocks. What the 
deuce do you want with them. Did you make some 
investments when you were in Yankee Land in case 
you should fly this island? ” 

“No, hardly that ! ” she half laughs, a curious look 
coming into her fair face. “But please send them up 
early to-morrow. Run and give Mazie a kiss, then — 
it is quite late — be a good boy and go away to play 
bad whist or worse poker at the English Club ; for I 
know even your matter-of-fact mind is not entirely at 
ease. Adios.'* She waves half mockingly to me her 
dainty hand. 

So I walk across the balcony to give my sweet- 
heart a good-night kiss. 

“You have spoken to Belita, what did she say?" 
asks Mazie anxiously. 

“Nothing! Chiefly asked if I’d got a package 
through the custom house for her. Only be assured 
your sister’s soul is as white as your hand, dear one, 
and that is the whitest in the world.’’ 

But as my ponies trot along the Malceon to the Eng- 
lish Club, I can’t help muttering : “What the deuce is 
Maud driving at with her Spanish methods and stab- 
bing those two scoundrels in their unsuspecting backs, 
and — deuce take it — commercial reports from Uncle 
Sam’s dominions." 

These commercial reports come up in my mind again 
some week or two later, when one day after the siesta 
hour, as it is just growing dusk, I chance to see the 
eldest daughter of Don Silas Gordon step out of her 
victoria, leaving her duenna half asleep on the luxurious 
cushions of the carriage, and wander into the agency 
of the Hong Kong Bank. 

Hoping to get some news of my dear Mazie, I cross 
the street and wake up Senora Valrigo by suggesting 
laughingly : “Senorita Maud is quite a business woman, 
eh ? ’’ 

“Oh, God have mercy on us, yes ! ’^ murmurs the 
duenna. “The child brings me here into dusty Bi- 
nondo quite often when the Luneta has its breezes, 
though I prefer a quiet cigarette on our palm balcony 
at home. " 


JACK CURZON. 1 73 

‘ * Y ou — you drive often to the Hong Kong Bank ? ’’ I 
return astounded. 

^'Diablo, three times within a week ! Safita Maria! 
I am getting tired of commerce and money changing,” 
mutters the poor Spanish woman, who seems to be 
uncomfortable deprived of her afternoon smoke. With 
this she looks drowsily at me as if she would like to go 
to sleep again. 

But I, anxious always to hear of my darling's affecta- 
tions, piquancies and witcheries, go to questioning 
Senora Valrigo as to Mazies movements this day. 
With this the duenna goes to giving me a wondrous 
account of a fight between Mazie’s new cat and a pet 
monkey of which I had made present to my sweet- 
heart. 

The lady has perhaps killed five minutes of time 
in her recital, and I am just taking off my hat and 
bidding her Adios I when suddenly I give a little 
start and drop my sombrero into the dirt of the street. 

Senorita Maud, looking fresh and sweet as a wood- 
violet despite the heat, comes tripping out of the 
private office of the Hong Kong Bank, and, holy poker ! 
whispering into her very ear, a kind of contented 
ecstasy in his fish-like, avaricious, yet ardent eyes, is 
Don Amadeo de Torres. 

With averted head I grope for my hat under the 
prancing ponies' feet and pretend not to see the judge 
as he walks away with his Caesar-like nose and haughty 
Castilian step, though I can’t help noting that Miss 
Maud Ysabel Gordon's face is as red as fire as she steps 
into the victoria. 

Here she contrives to say lightly to me: “Oho, 
Senor Jack, have you been giving Madam Valrigo a 
message for your sweetheart ? '' Then looks me search- 
ingly in the eye, and bending over as I stand beside the 
carriage, she whispers in low pleading voice : “ I know 
you saw him, but don’t mention it to ” 

“ To whom ? ” 

“ To any one 1 " 

And she drives away, I looking after her wondering 
and muttering to myself: “By the Lord, three times 
within the week ! ” 

Suddenly I think : “ A rather curious place for ren- 
dezvous, the private office of the Hong Kong Bank.” 


174 


JACK CURZON. 


But just the same I know this afternoon meeting of a 
young girl with any man would condemn her under 
Spanish eyes and etiquette to — the ranks of the name- 
less ! 


CHAPTER XV. 

*‘i’lL kick the judge of the supreme court of MANILA 
DOWN MY STEPS.” 

So gradually the affair moves on to a climax the 
mind of man would scarcely guess. 

During this time Captain-General Primo de Rivera 
discovers that Spanish gold is more potent than 
Spanish arms, and not being able to crush the rebellion 
by the fire of musketry, proceeds to throw silver 
dollars at the patriot Aguinaldo and his chief men, a 
much more demoralizing bombardment than even that 
of Mauser bullets. 

Thus it comes to pass about this time — it has now 
approached the end of November — that the Rebels dis- 
cover they don’t care about fighting the disciplined 
troops of Spain ; and Senor Aguinaldo with one or two 
more of his principal officers, under free passport and 
safe conduct from the Captain-General, journey into 
Manila and meet the Spanish officials to arrange for a 
pacification of the Insurgents. This pacification is six 
hundred thousand silver dollars, part paid the Rebel 
leader in advance, together with free and safe passport 
for him and some other of the high lights of his follow- 
ing to Hong Kong, where the balance of the money 
will be put to the patriot’s credit. All this General 
Don Emilio Aguinaldo — as he calls himself now — 
stipulates shall be done before his insurgents lay down 
their arms. 

But this surrender of the Rebels and the apparent 
approach of the end of the Rebellion seems to 
have a by no means tranquillizing effect upon poor old 
“Bully” Gordon, who meets me one evening early in 
December in the garden of his residence as I step in 
from the Calzada San Miguel, and whispers in his half 
drunken way: “You have h-heard the news, have 
you, Se-senor Jackie ? Aguinaldo’s g-going to lay down 


JACK CURZON. 175 

his arms. This rebellion will soon be in — in Kingdom 
come. This is my f-finish ! ’’ 

“ How so .? " I ask. 

“ Because, Ca-cararnha I — there won’t be any more 
rebels to round up, and they’ll bring me to the mast 
sure, before they l-lose the chance of calling me a 
conspirator. My time is coming,” he grinds his teeth 
together, “ but hang me, if I don’t have one go at that 
devil of the Supreme Court of Manila.” 

To this I pay little attention as the old sea-dog 
has whispered somewhat similar threats several times, 
and go up the stairs to the caida where Miss Mazie 
meets me, a rather frightened look upon her face. 

“ Don’t go into the salon yet. Jack, ” she whispers. 

“ Why not ? ” 

‘ ‘ Maud is there with Don Amadeo. He — he brought 
a lot of papers with him.” 

“ Hang it, what of that ? Don’t they always look at 
photographs } ” I grin. “ Isn’t the duenna asleep in the 
far corner of the parlor ? ” 

“No, I think Maud has contrived to get Senora 
Valrigo out of the room. They are talking very low 
and very earnestly together.” 

“ Well, supposing we talk very low and very earnest- 
ly here,” I whisper, and draw Mazie into the well-known 
retirement of the Japanese screen. 

But we haven’t kissed more than four or five times 
before I hear hasty steps coming from Don Silas’s room, 
which is at the other side of the house. 

That sea-dog, apparently inflamed by wine and in a 
very nasty humor, kicks an unfortunate cat out of the 
window over the balcony into the yard below as he 
comes cursing and striding along. I notice ElCorregi- 
dor glance mockingly after him out of the doorway 
where the two have been apparently taking a quiet nip 
together. 

‘ ‘ Oh, what’s Papa going to do .? ” whispers Mazie. 

Dios mio I He is swearing in English!” For the 
burly sea-captain, whose six feet in height is but little 
lessened by the stoop of debauchery and years, stamps 
straight into the main salon. 

I spring up to follow him and am just in time to see 
the opening of a most extraordinary interview. 

Even as I look in, Maud is standing beautiful as a 


:xO*C CURZON. 


176 

goddess. The soft laces of a tropic evening robe 
sweep about her, enveloping a figure that blends the 
lithe graces of a girl with those lines of feminine beauty 
that make Venus the admired goddess of this earth. 
Its black gauzes give the girl a stately radiance as they 
float away from rounded arms and chiseled shoulders 
and sculptured bust that gleam dazzling as ivory and 
are white as snow. She looks almost a statue, though 
it is one that has caught the spark from Heaven, and is 
warm and glowing enough to set fire to much colder 
clay than that of the legal Don Juan ; for her bosom is 
heaving like breakers on the shore, her eyes are ablaze 
with the triumph of a woman who has won f She is 
saying: “Then we understand each other, esteemed 
Don Amadeo ? ” 

“Yes, Dws mio, fair Senorita Ysab^lita, the matter 
is arranged. I am so happy.” 

“To-morrow you will keep your promise to me, and 
I will keep my promise to you,” murmurs the maiden, 
and extends her hand for the conquering judge to 
kiss. 

But even as Don Amadeo bends over it and his eyes 
blaze up as he puts his ardent lips upon the white 
veined member, astonishment comes upon the judge 
of the Supreme Court. He is seized by the scruff of 
the neck, and thrown across the apartment in about 
the same manner as I imagine Bully Gordon used to 
handle his cabin-boy in years gone by. 

For one moment the girl stares as if she can’t believe, 
then mutters with lips that have grown very pale : 
“You fool I You imbecile ! ” 

^ ‘ Fool ! ” screams the captain. “You dare talk that 
way to me, you hussy. Imbecile? I am sane enough 
to protect my honor. Don Amadeo de Torres ! ” he 
speaks savagely as the judge rises half dazed from an 
ottoman that has checked his fall, “your Honor will 
leave my house, and if I ever see you in it 111 kick the 
judge of the Supreme Court of Manila down my steps 
and through my courtyard and out into the street, 
boot you as I would that cat I slung out of the win- 
dow a minute ago. By the Lord Almighty ! ” he turns 
upon his daughter, “it’s lucky you didn’t keep your 
promise to-morrow, you minx, for if you had I would 
have killed Don Amadeo de Torres.” 


JACK CURZON. 


177 


At this, Mazie who is behind me bursts out crying, 
but Maud’s face from being marble becomes red as the 
flowers of the fire-tree. For one second she gazes on 
her father as if scarce understanding him ; then her 
hands fly to her eyes and hide them as if ashamed. 

At this the drunken sea-dog bursts out upon her once 
more: “You hussy, who can’t look me in the 
face ! ” 

“Can’t I ? ” And the hands come down and the eyes 
blaze at her father until he cowers ; then she bursts out 
on him : “ You drunken fool ! you imbecile ! you dolt, 
who dares doubt your daughter’s honor. For this in- 
sult I never will forgive you. Kneel down and apolo- 
gize to Don Amadeo for doubting him, for doubting 
me ! ” 

“ Damned if I will ! I’ll throw your Spanish lover 
over the veranda first.” 

For the girl is between them, her white lips begging : 
“ Think not of this, dear Don Amadeo,” and her gest- 
ure is imploring to the judge, who, with white face, is 
moving towards the door. “ Don’t heed him,” she 
cries, “my word to you is given, so is your word to 
me.” 

“What ! Giving your amorous promises before my 
face, you wanton ! By Heaven, when I came in here 
I thought you were the innocent fly and Don Amadeo 
the spider. But now I know you’re both birds of a 
feather ! ” snarls the captain with a horrid oath. 

At this, dear little Mazie runs at her father and 
screams to him : “Liar!” then comes shuddering 
back to me. 

But Maud unheeding this save by a kind of awful 
shuddering blush, goes on in desperate pleading : “My 
I word to you is given, and it shall be kept religiously, 

' Don Amadeo. Only for the love of Heaven, keep your 
i promise to me, that’s all I ask. Think nothing of this ; 

\ it will pass away from my besotted father with his 
drink. ” 

“I will think nothing of this, Senorita Maud ; neither 
of what came before. We will consider the affair ob- 
j literated. Senor Gordon, I’ll no more darken your 
, doors. You have the supreme assurance that no in- 
; suit of yours to me shall affect my rulings in your case 
j when it comes before me. Adws, young lady.” 

I 12 

! 


JACK CURZON. 


178 

And the judge would go to the door, but Maud has 
stopped him and is saying: “Remember, don’t heed 
him ! ” And her beauty and her pleading grace might 
stay the steps of any man, but a Spaniard whose self- 
love has been wounded. 

Don Amadeo’s face is like a Sphinx’s, only it has eyes 
that gleam serpent-like as they gaze upon the girl’s 
father. “ Were your rank and station, sir, equal to my 
own, you should give me the satisfaction of a gentle- 
man,” he says through his white teeth. 

“Damn you! I’ll fight you now right here; with 
anything from a harpoon to a rifle I ” screams Bully 
Gordon. 

But the judge only answers this with a look of Cas- 
tilian hauteur and moves to the door. 

“Audi, since my friend has been insulted in this 
house, will take my leave with him. ” This comes to 
me in the voice of El Corregidor who has been looking 
at this interview with very contented face which he 
now turns upon Mazie’s shrinking loveliness in a kind 
of gloating way that m.akes me want to strike him. 
“My arm, brother of Spain,” continues Don Rafael, 
stifling another grin of triumph, and offers his support 
to the judge of the Supreme Court as the two go down 
the big stairway that leads into the garden. 

Then the scene becomes more horrible, for it is that of 
a woman’s despair. The blush leaves Maud’s features 
which become pallid as ice. She gives* a gasp of 
dismay, and striding to her father, whispers: “To- 
night I had won. He had given his promise. To- 
morrow, you fool, I would have saved you, your 
family, your estates ; you idiot, you besotted dolt 1 ” 

“Bah, what’s that to my honor as a father.” 

“You coward to insult me I ” cries the girl. “ Do 
you think I would have done aught that would have 
made my lips unworthy of the man I love ; even to save 
my body from the flames of Hades ? Out of my 
sight ! ” 

To this her father stammers: “Damn it, w — what 
did he promise j^ou ? ” 

“That you should have asked before ; it is nothing 
now ; it is /oo late. He whom I had made friend to you 
is now your enemy. Don Amadeo who could have de- 
stroyed your enemies and mine, is now walking away 


JACK CURZON. 179 

on the arm of one of them. Together they will make 
their plans that will destroy you.” 

“Then God forgive me ! ” says the captain in maud- 
lin despair. “My poor abused darling; my petsey 
witsey ; my Belita. Hang it, damn it, that scoundrel 
Corregidor was always hinting — nagging. Til — I'll 
go and get another drink of whisky ! ” and staggers off 
leaving me gazing at the statue of a Venus who 
becomes a Niobe, and sobs : “Oh, the despair of it! 
1 had it all arranged. Oh, the fool 1 ” 

“ What arranged.? ” I ask anxiously ; for Mazie has 
gone trembling away and is crying silently out on the 
veranda. 

“Ah, I was meeting these scoundrels with their own 
weapons. I had made Don Amadeo my friend, I had 
interested him in an American speculation that I was 
to conduct with him. You saw the photographs I 
showed him of great New York. You remember, Jack, 
that package of pamphlets that came to me only a 
month ago. You got them for me. You have noticed 
how Don Amadeo and I examined them evening after 
evening. It was a speculation in American securities” 

“What ? ” 

“ In American stocks,” she continues. 

“In American stocks?” I scream, staggered with 
astonishment ; then jeer derisively. “You would have 
roped Don Amadeo in Wall Street? By hockey I You 
would have got him in your power by swiping all 
the judge’s money?” 

“ No, no ! ” cries the girl, indignantly. “It was a 
certain speculation that had been told me by a great 
banker in New York, the Metropolitan Street Rail- 
way.” 

“The — the Metropolitan Street Railway?”! gasp, 
“ What’s that ? ” 

^ ‘ Yes, in two years the stock will be worth double 
what it is now. The evenings those plotters thought 
we were whispering love, I was explaining to Don 
Amadeo the photographs of New York. When we 
talked together, it was not romance, it was simply 
business. I was showing the judge the great lines of 
streets this railway expected to cover with their elec- 
tric cars. I was telling Don Amadeo of the multitude 
of people in the American metropolis. He was avar- 


i8o 


JACK CURZON. 


icious. He had money, and feared to place it in the de- 
clining bonds of his own country. Like most Spanish 
officials, he wished to invest his stealings far away from 
the colony he robbed. You know how they all send 
immense sums of money from this island, likewise 
from Cuba, and quite often don't invest them in 
the securities of Madrid. Don Amadeo was to 
cable through me two hundred thousand dollars gold 
to-morrow via the Hong Kong Bank to New York 
to Alfred de Cordova & Co., who were to buy the 
securities on the assurance of the Hong Kong Bank. 
This stock the Hong Kong Bank were to hold as 
trustee for him. The stock is now at par. Some day 
it will be a hundred and fifty — two hundred, perhaps 
more.” 

“You seem cock-sure of your stock speculation,” I 
remark. 

“Oh, so you would be, if you had seen the great 
city. But it wasn’t to give fortune to Don Amadeo I 
was working. That stock once bought, the judge of 
the Supreme Court of Manila, by his American invest- 
ment was made almost one of us. He — he could not 
dare — ” here she whispers in my ear — “to have struck 
an American citizen down. Linked with us, this all- 
potent judge — our enemies were as nothing ; our case 
in the Supreme Court was won. O God ! ” the girl 
sinks down wringing her hands. ‘ ‘ He had promised me 
to-morrow to see the order of the Court which bound 
poor Mazie and myself as witnesses to this place, 
should be annuled and canceled. Mazie would have 
been free to go with you to Hong Kong. I could have 
gone there and married the man of my heart. Per- 
mits could not have been well refused to us. Be- 
sides these Spaniards don’t do things by halves. Don 
Amadeo would have smashed the vipers who for those 
great tobacco lands would ruin my father ; and now — 
now! — now! he is our enemy. His power which 
would have crushed them^ will smite us ! ” 

Here a new misery comes into her face. She jeers : 
-^“Listen, Dios mio, Papa Ludenbaum has come 
to sympathize with his dear friend, the drunken sea- 
captain.” 

And I hear from Don Silas’s sanctum the clinking of 
glasses, and the jovial voice of the German saying : 


JACK CURZON. 


l8l 

Mein Gotti eckelha/t ! You have my sympathy, my 
dear old comrade, in all your trouble/' 

“Yes, another glass of whisky, you old Dutch war- 
horse/’ cries Bully Gordon. “ Drink to the way I fired 
the cursed Spanish judge ! ” 

Upon hearing this the young lady sinks down upon 
a low settee, giving sign of her misery and defeat by 
nervous twitchings of her delicate hands. 

“You think,” I venture, “ Senorita Maud, that you 
could have kept your friendship with this amorous yet 
avaricious Julius Caesar of the Supreme Court, within 
the bounds of business ? ” 

Perchance my gaze is doubting. For now she is a 
mass of despairing loveliness, that would have made 
even the cold heart of a Roman consul, wearied with 
the caresses of a hundred Gallic virgins, beat very fast. 
Somehow in her agitation the masses of her hair have 
become unbound and float about, making a net of toss- 
ing locks, of stray brown curls, through which gleam 
shoulders of dazzling whiteness, and a bosom that in 
its throbbings displays the rounded beauties Phidias 
gave his marbles. Beneath her tossed-about jupe, one 
little foot and fairy ankle just peeps out to make the 
picture perfect. 

As 1 speak. Miss Business rises haughtily, and says 
in a voice of ice: “Why not, Senor .? To a child 
brought up like my sister, in convent seclusion, it 
might be impossible ; for a woman educated in our Span- 
ish fashion is either in a man’s arms or out of them. 
But in America, our sex is taught to meet your sex on a 
different basis. ” 

“ But surely Don Amadeo would have hoped P'* 1 re- 
mark. Perchance as I look upon her loveliness, my 
glance is more suggestive than my words. 

“ He would have hoped forever ! ” cries the girl in- 
dignantly, blushing red as fire. “ A woman can put 
a trocha about herself that no man can step over, 
though let her beware how she makes the slightest open- 
ing in it.” Then she gets redder even than before, and 
stamps her little foot indignantly, and clenches her 
hand and glares at me, and mutters: “Don’t dare 
doubt that I could have kept Don Amadeo looking at 
me over my barbed wire fence till all his hair dropped 
off his old head, and every tooth fell out of his poor 


i 82 


JACK CURZON. 


jaws. A little trick the American girl taught me as she 
traveled about, and took mighty good care of her pretty 
self, even in the wilds of Kansas, or on flirtatious Fifth 
Avenue, Senor.” 

This last is said with a piteous, yet roguish, smile, 
which dies away into a sickly pallor as her father, half- 
seas over now, comes staggering in followed by Herr 
Ludenbaum, who in his German, pathetic way, is 
sympathizing with him, and saying : “ Mein noble 
fellow ; mein Filipino Virginius! Der father who will 
not hold up his hand to save der daughter is unworthy 
of such a daughter.” 

Then both Maud and I give a gasp of dismay. For, 
made cocky in his cups, old Bully Gordon reveals the 
secret he has kept so long, so well ; and gulps : “ Ludy, 
we’ve got those damned Spaniards anyway. We’ve 
got a thing up our sleeve that will — hie — smash ’em all 
like a bos’n does a ship’s boy. My darter in America 
— that’s what I sent her for — has become a citizeness 
of the United States. The eagle’s wings are over her. 
She is not like her — hie — poor old expatriated daddy, 
who like a b — blasted idiot ran away from the bird 
of freedom — naked to these Spanish officials. When 
the thing comes up in court, you’ll see with the Ameri- 
can Consul how my poor, abused spit-fire gal will 
smash ’em ! ” 

This revealing, Gordon’s old friend, the German, 
looks upon with a ghastly face. His jaw drops ; his 
longue half hangs out. He gasps in a kind of gurgling 
beery voice : Mein Himmel, you — you say the Senor- 
ita Maud has been made a citizen of the United States ? 
Impossible! ” 

“ By heaven and earth, yes ! The State of Kansas ! 
Damn it 1 Maud’s voted there I What does my sour- 
kraut boy say to that } ” guffaws the drunken sea-dog. 

But Maud interposing, cries: ‘‘What nonsense! 
Father, you rave. Women vote } It is the drunken 
babble of a man made insane by wine. Dios mio I I 
am no more a citizen of the United States than I am 
what my father did me the honor of supposing when he 
struck down Don Amadeo de Torres.” 

But even as she speaks, I see the girl clutch with her 
hand her throbbing bosom, and know she wears con- 
stantly on her person the document that she thinks wiU 


JACK CURZON. 


183 

perhaps be her aegis at the very last, but which maybe 
destroyed in its power and virility by the machinations 
of an enemy who now guesses the weapon with 
which she is armed. 

For it is evident Herr Adolph believes that drunken 
men tell the truth. 

In fact the drunken man impresses this upon him by 
crying : “ Don’t dare to tell your poor old dad that he 
lies, Miss Sauce-box ! Hang it, if I had brought you 
up properly, my fine lady, and given you a sound 
strapping once or twice when you were younger, you 
would not now have cheeked me in my old age ! " 

He glares at his beautifiil daughter, who answers this 
with a jeering, nervous laugh, though her face is 
haughty as a Boadicea’s. 

Then he breaks out in boozy repetition: “Oh, 
sharper than a serpent’s tooth — hie — you know the 
rest, old Ludy. Old beer-mug, this vixen drives me to 
drink. What will you ha-have ? Whisky ? ” 

Don Silas’s voice dies away as he staggers off to his 
beloved tipple, while Herr Adolph attempts consolation 
to the indignant goddess in a kind of unctuous sympathy 
remarking: “Don’t be afraid, mein leedle fraulein, of 
your drunken father. Old Papa Ludenbaum will 
soothe him down, won’t he, mein leedle dove.” 

With this he retreats after old Bully, who is now 
calling wildly : “ Come ! Don’t shirk your tipple, beer- 
barrel. ” 

The moment we are alone, I whisper savagely, 
for the blood has been boiling in my veins at this scene : 
“You — you do not fear any personal violence from 
your father in his drunken fits ? ” 

“ From my dear father, who has always been gentle- 
ness itself to me — until this day ? Impossible ! ” mut- 
ters the girl. “No, no ! I fear only the effect upon 
our fate. He is becoming wax in that sneaking Ger- 
man’s hands.” 

Then she swings around upon me, her eyes blazing 
with resolve, looks me in the face, and American busi- 
ness tones dominating her soft Spanish accents, knocks 
me down with : “Now, Jack, my boy, you have got to 
MARRY MaZIE AT ONCE ! ” 


184 


JACK CURZON. 


CHAPTER XVI. 

THE EMPTY HOUSE ON THE CALZADA SAN MIGUEL. 

For a moment I gaze at her stupefied. ‘‘Marry 
Mazie — at once ? I gasp. 

“ Yes ! Don’t you want to ? ” 

“ Wan/ to The ecstasy in my face answers her. 
“For what have I been staying around here in a kind 
of semi-purgatory ? Want to ? I want to as bad as 
Ruth wanted Boaz ! ” Then I go on : “But Mazie, what 
will she say ? The Church, I understand, objects to her 
marrying a heretic." 

‘ ‘ Mazie has got to say yes right now if she wants to be 
your wife ! " cries the girl decidedly ; next commences 
to wring her hands and gasp : “ Dolt that I was, not to 
have written .my gallant lover of my extremity ! Then 
he would have been here to marry me. But that is too 
late now," she sighs. “Still there is a chance of hap- 
piness for Mazie if she weds you at once,” she says as 
if inspired. “Englishman, you can appeal to the 
British Consul if the Supreme Court of Manila orders 
your wife to go to Nueva Ecija to give her evi- 
dence. Don’t let them get her there, that’s her dan- 
ger ! far away in the wilds with only Spanish power 
about her, no way of communication except by horses, 
buffalo carts and bancas down the river. Cut off! 
Dios mio, cut off ! Marry her and keep Mazie in 
Manila, Jack. That’s your chance. Then I will beat 
least free to fight my own battle and that of my poor 
besotted father. ’’ The girl’s eyes fill with tears, but 
she dashes them awaTy with noble resolution ; runs 
out onto the veranda and in a flash brings Mazie back 
with her, half dragging my pretty sweetheart, who 
seems to be in a kind of a dazed horror since her father 
drove the Spanish judge out of his house, and called 
her sister “ wanton.’’ 

“Now, Mazie," says Maud decidedly, “you’ve got 
to marry Jack within a week ; sooner if possible ! ’’ 

“ Marry Jack within the week ? ’’ 


JACK CURZON. 185 

“Yes, it is not such an awful fate,” I assert savagely. 
“ But they have told me it will ruin papa.” 

Anyway your being a maiden won’t save him now, 
and it’s your chance of happiness,” cries Maud deter- 
minedly ; then she says sternly : “I take the direction 
of you, Mazie, now that my poor father is incapable 
through his debauchery. I give you to the man you 
love. I order you to marry him ! ” 

‘ ‘ Has Padre de Laviga put in any word against me ? ” 
I whisper angrily ; for Mazie has stamped her little foot 
defiantly at her sister’s command. 

“ No,” says my sweetheart in a hesitating voice. 
“ The priest told me always to marry the man I loved 
and no other. He is good, gentle, a saint. But,” 
here she shudders, ‘ ‘ El Corregidor. ” 

“ This is the only way to save you from him,” whis- 
pers Maud. “Heavens, how I would fly to Phil 
Marston’s arms if he were here imploring me ! ” then 
bursts out for the first time in all this night crying as if 
her heart would break, and sobbing : “ My lost one, 
whom I have kept from me like an imbecile, thinking to 
fight my own battle ! ” 

Apparently impressed by her sister’s despair, and 
perchance some subtle caresses I lavish on her and 
noting my looks which say to her it is now or never ^ 
Mazie gives a little love cry and falls into my arms, 
murmuring : “ Do what you will with me. Jack, only 
don’t look so sternly at me ! ” and I, a kind of delicious 
ecstasy in my brain, place my lips upon the lips I think 
fondly will be those of my bride within the week. 

For Maud has said : “ We must make our prepara- 

tions as rapidly as possible ; ” then turning to me, she 
adds: “Don’t you let any of your no-religion ideas 
bar Mazie’s way to the altar ! If the priest will not 
marry you without your promising that your children 
shall be Catholics,” — here my sweetheart gives a little 
bashful cry — “don’t you put in a surly Anglo-Saxon, 

‘ no ! ’ You don’t go to any Church here, I notice, Senor 
Curzon. Let your children be brought up in the re- 
ligion of your wife, who will teach them to be good, 
much better than you can. Give up something for her, 
she surrenders a good deal for you. ” 

Impressed by her words, I mutter : “ If it will make 
Mazie happy, yes.” 


i86 


JACK CURZON. 


“Oh thank you, Jack,^’ cries my sweetheart. “If I 
hadn't married you in the Catholic Church, I should 
have feared forever the pains of purgatory. I should 
scarcely have thought I was your wife." 

“You shall think you are my wife! " I promise, a 
flush upon my face. 

Then Maud whispers: “Thank God! Make your 
preparations, Senor Jack. My sister must marry you 
within three days." 

“So soon ?" is Mazie's bashful cry. 

“ Yes, Td make it to-morrow if I could ; but we must 
appear not to be entirely dismayed," continues her 
sister consideringly. “ I shall keep my usual routine 
of society. To-morrow night Mazie and I and our 
duenna will go to Senora Valdez' reception ; where your 
afflanced shall be blithe as a coming bride, and I — I 
will be as brave as I can be." Maud speaks in a kind 
of despair that frightens me. ‘ ‘ The evening after, you 
come up quietly here. By that time I will have ob- 
tained the necessary dispensation ; and the next 
morning kind-hearted Padre de Laviga shall make you 
happy." 

“All right," I answer, “anything to marry Mazie. 
But your father ? " 

“My father shall give his consent to-morrow 
morning. When sober he will be penitent and I can 
twist his dear old heart round my little finger, " says 
Maud confidently. “Now go and make your prepara- 
tions, Senor Jack. Give your bride one kiss more, and 
take this from me — * — " She draws from under the laces 
and gauzes that guard her bosom a little packet. 

“Is it another letter ? " gasps Mazie. 

“Yes ; to the man I love. Something I have written 
days ago. Give it to Phil Marston, Jack, in case " 

“ What do you fear.? " I whisper. 

“Oh, I don't know what I fear. Everything, any- 
thing — now they guess I am going to claim American 
citizenship." 

“Why not go to the American Consul at once ? " 

“And demand what? Protection from the air ? I 
am living in luxury here and apparent happiness. Be- 
sides I fear they will attack my papers, in some subtile 
way. It is unusual for a female to become a mem- 
ber of the body politic of any nation. In addition, 


JACK CURZON. 


187 


I am the offspring of a Spanish woman, and a father 
who has renounced his American citizenship to become 
a subject of Spain. What legal quibbles may they not 
bring up, since that putty-faced German knows my 
secret ? Papa Ludenbaum ! ” she bursts out jeeringly : 
“He who gave me sweetmeats when 1 was a child, 
who, when I was too young to know, induced me by my 
love of this island to become — you know what, Jack,” 
she whispers ; then mutters, a kind of terror coming 
in her voice : “What do his eyes mean to me.? ” but 
forcing herself to calmness remarks : “ Pha, my fears 
make me foolish, idiotic ! Go away Jack, and make 
your preparations. Put your bungalow in order, for 
you have as pretty a bride as ever tripped over the 
nuptial threshold. But beware you are worthy of the 
dear one I give you. Remember, the evening after to- 
morrow. I don’t think the necessary dispensation can 
be obtained before that time.” 

“Oh, I’ll drop in on you and Mazie several times 
before that,” I say half laughingly. “ That arrange- 
ment will suit me precisely. I have to run down to 
Cavite to-morrow on important business and must be 
careful to stand high with Martin, Thompson & Co., 
now I assume new responsibilities.” 

So after a little I drive away as merry as a 'robin 
who doesn’t know he is to be shot upon the morrow. 

Quite cheerily also the next morning I come down 
from Ermita to my office and make my arrangements 
for my trip to Cavite. This place, recaptured from the 
Insurgents some few months before, is now getting into 
business order again. Though the rebellion has 
practically died out, the roads between Manila and 
the town near which the Spanish naval arsenal is 
situated are still somewhat disturbed by roving bands 
of Rebels; therefore I conclude to take a pleasant 
sail in an old steam launch that I succeed in chartering 
for the purpose. It is manned by some Mestizo boat- 
men, is run by a Spanish engineer, called Diego, and 
belongs to a Jew named Gugenheim, who has an office 
not very far from Herr Ludenbaum’s place of business. 

While making my arrangements for the journey, to 
my astonishment Ah Khy pops into my private office, 
something the Chinaman hasn’t done for months. 
Since I assisted in making him a Katipunan, Khy 


i88 


JACK CURZON. 


seems to regard my presence as dangerous to his 
personal safety. 

“What the deuce do you want, Khy, my boy?” I 
say as affably as I can. 

“Only this,” he whispers mysteriously to me. 
“Since this thing has all blown over now and 
Aguinaldo taken his hush money, I think it is about 
time to do a little justice to my governor in Hong 
Kong and smash old Ludy with those receipts for 
arms.” 

“You have got them still ? ” I ask, astonished ; for 
' I had supposed the Chinaman had certainly destroyed 
them. 

“Yes,” whispers Khy. “Buried in an iron box 
under a tree in the back yard of our office. They 
used to keep me awake at night when I had them in 
the safe.” Then he breaks forth into a little chuckle : 

“Oh, Josh, won’t my dad raise my allowance if I 
get his German enemy into a pot of trouble. I have 
fixed how to do it also, subtle as a Thug. But I want 
your advice about one or two details.” 

“Well, I can’t wait for you now. I’ve got to go to 
Cavite, but when I return.” 

“ How long will that be ? ” 

“Only until this evening; back at six o’clock. 
That’s if the launch doesn’t break down. The machin- 
ery looks rather rickety, though the boat is staunch, 
and the engineer assures me everything is all right.” 

“All light! To-morrow morning sure 1 ” remarks 
the Chinese dandy, and brushing his high hat strolls 
out of the office. 

Detained in Manila by the thousand and one details 
of routine business, I finally get off about eleven 
o’clock and make a very pleasant sail over the 
soft waters of the bay to Cavitd, to find the town, 
bombarded by the Spaniards and looted by the Rebels, 
is just recovering a little from the destruction of war. 

It is some little time before I get through my busi- 
ness with Mr. Young, an Englishman who has a ship- 
yard and some coal docks on Sanglei Point, near the 
little village of Canacao. 

But at)Out four o’clock I hurry back to my launch, 
and find to my dismay the engineer reports the 
machinery has got out of gear. 


JACK CURZON. 189 

^*How long will it take to put the engine into work- 
ing order ? I mutter to Diego impatiently. 

“ Perhaps an hour, Senor.” 

“Then go to work at once ! ” I cry, and walk up 
to take my lunch at Cavite on the Arsenal street in 
what they call a hotel — though it is not one — being a 
mixture of road tavern and boarding-house for tran- 
sients, and not good enough for a mosquito to eat in. 
The landlord says the Insurrection has ruined him and 
uses this as an excuse for starving the survivors of it. 

An hour afterwards going down again, I find the ma- 
chinery of the launch is not in order, though very volu- 
ble promises are made. Were it not so late I would 
take a pony and a native guide and try to get to 
Manila by way of the land, but it is almost dark now, 
and I know the country is by no means quiet. Rebels 
are potting and looting wanderers indiscriminately 
between the outposts of Cavitd and the Spanish line 
of intrenchments at Malate and Ermita. 

A few minutes after, my hopes of the launch are 
again dissipated. The machinery has been fixed, but 
the boiler is out of order. Sometimes I have since 
thought all this came about through my friend Luden- 
baum. 

So I linger on till all chance of boat or steamer or 
any water conveyance is gone for the day. 

With a sigh I find I am compelled to spend the night 
in Cavite. I give most savage orders to the engineer 
to get additional help and fix his miserable kettle 
so that I can surely return in the morning. Then I 
wander up to the hotel to pass a night in Hades fight- 
ing with insects — though despite the annoyance I am 
very happy, I am one day nearer Mazie. 

Then next morning, such are their Spanish methods 
of delay, that the launch is not ready until almost the 
afternoon, and I have once or twice thought of taking 
a banca or a boat rowed by hand, not being able to 
find any steam craft. 

But Diego at last cries : “Ready, Senor ! 

It is all of twelve o’clock before I get started on my 
return trip, and the boat goes very slowly. 

Fortunately, however, after many anathemas from 
Diego at the engines, the coal and everything but him- 
self, we glide alongside the stone landing steps on the 


190 JACK CURZON. 

Pasig, and about six o’clock in the evening I find my- 
self in Binondo. 

I have been absent from my sweetheart thirty-six 
hours. Seizing a carromata, I direct the man to drive 
hurriedly to the bungalow of Don Silas Gordon in the 
suburb of San Miguel, and am in so great a hurry that 
I do not place any importance at the fellow growing 
pale at my order. 

God knows what joy is in my soul. I am driving to 
the arms of my lo^/'ed one, the girl who will be my 
bride upon the morrow. My blood courses through 
my veins in a kind of insane ecstasy. In a few 
moments Mazie’s kisses will be on my lips. 

But some three hundred yards from the entrance of 
Gordon’s villa, the man suddenly pulls up and says 
one of his ponies is too lame' to move, though he de- 
mands his fare. 

Too impatient for the sight of my sweetheart to dis- 
pute with the fellow, whose face bears the stoical 
smile common to the Filipino race, which conceals 
the stubbornness of an Andalusian mule, I pay him 
and make the short distance on foot. 

As I tramp along the street under the shade of the 
bamboos and fire-trees, I hear the rattle of the half- 
crazy vehicle I have come in, and see the man driving 
off like the wind. For some occult reason his pony 
has suddenly recovered from its lameness. 

My mind is only upon my charming sweetheart. I 
have been away for two days — in four more minutes 
Mazie’s kisses will be on my lips. I enter the pretty 
little garden of bamboos and tropical plants, and cry 
out lustily: ''Oy ba/a!” some half a dozen times. 
No one answers but I think little of this, for native ser- 
vants will let you call forever. 

Impatient for my sweetheart’s arms, I run up the 
big stairway, open the front door — Filipino houses are 
never locked — step into the magnificent caida, and cry 
out again : “ Oy bata ! ” but no boy, nor girl, nor servant 
of any kind makes their appearance. 

I step into the reception-room. The appearance of 
the place astounds and shocks me. It is growing 
dark ; though the lamps are not lighted, I can note that 
things have been tossed about in apparently reckless 
disorder. Maud’s banjo is lying broken on the floor. 


JACK CURZON. 19 I 

The New York photographs in her portfolio are strewn 
about the room. 

‘ ‘ What the deuce has happened ? ” I gaze about. 
The place seems deserted. “By the God of misery! 
/ am in an empty house!'' 


CHAPTER XXVII. 

“fine news for PHIL MARSTON OF THE U. S. NAVY ! ” 

Then I call: “ Mazie I Mazie I Maud, where are 
you } " and run into the dining-room. 

Here by the light of a kerosene lamp I discover, with 
his two slippered feet upon a magnificent inlaid table, 
smoking a cigarro, the perfume of which I remember 
as one of Bully Gordon’s finest Incomparables, and 
drinking a bottle of champagne which I remember 
as Bully Gordon’s favorite Cliquot, a Spanish gentle- 
man in white linens and official costume, who, rising, 
says in haughty languor: “Senor, permit me to ask 
you not to make such a disturbing noise, and to in- 
troduce myself as Don Emilio Gonzalo de Monaldo, 
one of the under-secretaries of the Supreme Court of 
Manila. What do you wish?” 

“I called to see Don Silas Gordon and his family. 
Where are they ? ” I ask hastily. “This is his house I ” 

‘ ‘ Was his house. Senor Gordon is under arrest in 
the Citadel of Santiago ! ” He waves his hand towards 
the Old Town. 

“ His daughters ; are they not here? ” My voice is 
hoarse with astonishment and dismay. 

“ Certainly not ! This is confiscated property !" 

“ My God, are they arrested also?” 

“ I don’t know. I think not. If the Senor will 
kindly apply to the office of the general-staff in the 
Old Town, he may learn more.” 

“ Is Gordon executed? ” I gasp and support myself 
by grasping a chair. 

“Perhaps, but I think not — not yet.” Then the 
Spanish official says suspiciously: “Your name, sir, 
and your connection with this suspect.” 

“Certainly,” I answer, for I know boldness is the 


192 


JACK CURZON. 


best way with these fellows; “I am John Talboys 
Curzon, manager of the English house of Martin, 
Thompson & Company. Here is my card. If you 
wish any further information about me, apply at the 
English Consul’s. ” 

Stunned, I stagger away, and fortunately finding an 
empty carromata on the Calzada, mutter to the driver 
in broken voice : “English Club, Ermita ! ” 

From the breezy veranda of the cool club-house I gaze 
with dazed eyes over the ripples of the bay, and re- 
ceive some details of the infernal affair that make my 
head reel and my heart grow cold as ice and heavy as 
lead. 

To my excited and anxious queries little Simpson of 
the English Consul’s office, taking me aside, whispers : 
“Yes; they took old Gordon safe enough. But here 
is something that I tell to nobody but you. You’re 
engaged to one of his daughters? ” 

“ Yes.” 

“They not only took Bully Gordon, hut they killed 
him.” 

“ My God ! Impossible ! ” 

'‘Yes, the trick was done very neatly. They ar- 
rested him last night at twelve o’clock, a time old 
Bully Gordon was sure to be fighting drunk. Of course 
the inebriated old sea-dog resisted ; of course that was 
the end of him. Nobody asked why that volley of 
musketry was heard last night at twelve o’clock ; no- 
body with common sense in the San Miguel suburb. 
They’ll probably tell you he is over in the citadel in 
Old Manila, but old Don Silas is under ground. He 
always was banging his head against the Spanish 
bayonets. Then of course you know the poor fellow 
was a subject of Spain, the officials down on him, lots 
of property and two beautiful daughters — I beg your 
pardon.” And little Tommy Simpson nervously buries 
his mouth in the glass that is in front of him. 

“But his daughters? My Heaven ! what have they 
done with them ? ” 

“Oh, they’re safe enough, under the care of old 
Ludenbaum.” 

“Under the care of Ludenbaum ? ” 

“Yes. Don’t look so wild, old man. He is kind 
of guardian for them now. You had better drive 


JACK CURZON. 


193 


around to see him. He can tell you, of course, better 
than anyone else. I advise you to take a peg too be- 
fore you go ; you look as if you need it.” And Tommy, 
after ringing the bell, raises his voice, and cries : ‘ ‘ Here, 
boy, order one carromata and two stingahs quick ! ” 

I take both of Simpson s prescriptions. After bolt- 
ing the liquor I fly to Ludenbaum’s offices on the 
Plaza de Cervantes, in a kind of half crazy state. 

As I drive my brain whizzes at the infernal cunning 
of attempting the arrest, at twelve o’clock at night, 
the hour they knew old Bully would be fighting drunk. 
Some one interested in Gordon’s taking off had given 
them that point, and some official must have been 
very willing to see the hint was taken. 

At Ludenbaum’s big commercial establishment as 
I arrive, they seem to be closing early, apparently for 
some kind of a fete. I see a supper table set out in 
the big back room. Champagne seems ready to flow. 
Some of the clerks have white flowers in their button- 
holes. The table has floral decorations. I dreamily 
note this as the boy at the door shows me in. 

My face seems to impress the boy. I am ushered at 
once into the inner office where the blue-eyed methodi- 
cal German cashier is adding up columns of figures in 
his placid Teutonic way. 

“What can I do for you, Herr Curzon ? ” this gentle- 
man says politely. “Our esteemed Herr Adolph will 
not be here for several weeks.” 

“ Not here — for — for several weeks ? ” 

“Yah, he left Manila early this morning. May I be 
permitted to offer you a cigar ? ” remarks the cashier, 
lighting up. 

I refuse the cigar, and sinking into a chair, ask : 
“Where has Herr Adolph gone?” 

“To Nueva Ecija ! ” 

“ To — to — Nueva — Ecija ? ” 

“Yes, the Rebels having laid down their arms, the 
court will open soon.” 

“Never mind Herr Ludenbaum,” I mutter. “I 
called to inquire for poor Gordon’s two daughters, the 
Senoritas Mazie and Maud.” 

“They went with Herr Ludenbaum.” 

“The — the deuce you say!” I stammer. 

'‘Certainly; Herr Adolph is the guardian of the 

13 


194 


JACK CURZON. 


younger, Mazie, by her father’s will. They say old 
Papa Gordon died in the prison from heart disease or 
drink or something, last night, and, of course, my prin- 
cipal is naturally the guardian of the elder.” 

‘ ‘ The — guardian — of — Senorita — Maud — Ysabel — 
Gordon ? " I repeat slowly in an imbecile and faltering 
way. 

“ Pardon me, Herr Curzon,” remarks the clerk with 
Teuton preciseness, hitting me with a mental sledge- 
hammer, “that was the Fraulein’s maiden name.” 

“Her — maiden — name.?” My tongue is lolling out 
of my mouth, my eyes are rolling in their sockets. 

“ Certainly,” he continues suavely. “ Did you not 
know that Fraulein Maud Ysabel Gordon is the wife of 
Herr Adolph Max Ludenbaum.” 

With this a pile-driver seems to come down and 
strike my dazed brain. I shriek : “What? ” 

“Certainly ! Fraulein Maud has been the spouse of 
my honored principal for eight years.'' 

“WHAT?” 

“Married to him by the Cura of the church of Car- 
ranglan in Nueva Ecija. Herr Adolph wishes the news 
of his happiness 'spread about social Manila so that 
there can be no gossip nor scandal.” 

“And his — his wife, and her sister have gone with 
him to Nueva Ecija ? ” 

“Yes, praise to God. It is, I believe, the beginning 
of our esteemed Herr Adolph’s honeymoon. The 
child was very young when he married her. ” 

“Yes, they do marry young in the Philippines,” I 
mumble. 

“Certainly. Herr Adolph did not press for his 
marital rights before. Will you not drink with us to 
the bride ? Our principal has given his employes a 
wedding supper. My toast will be : A great love and 
many children ! ” 

I catch the last of this as I stagger out into the Plaza 
de Cervantes, a kind of boiler shop in my brain, which 
is whirling in a comatose despair. “Mazie the ward 
— Maud the wife — of that infernal old German villain ! ” 

I stand in an idiotic way, jostled by the few people 
who are passing in the dusk of the evening. “This 
girl whose whole soul and whose young heart are that 
of a brave young fellow in the United States Navy, 


JACK CURZON. 195 

married and on her wedding tour with that old fat 
rascal. I know it is a lie! I — Good God ! ” 

My reverie closes with a bang. I have received 
the secret sign manual of the Katipunan from a pass- 
ing Mestizo. It wakes me as from a dream. I look 
closely at the man who has given me the signal. By 
Heaven and Earth, it is — can it be ? 

I see he wishes me to follow him. I do follow him 
— straight to the bazar of Herr Chick & Co. in the 
Rosario into a dark and gloomy room, where the 
savage sniffs about and finally says: “All is safe, 
my Brother ! ” and brings Ah Khy, who is faltering 
and very much excited, in to me. 

“ Ata Tonga, you have come ? ” I break out. 

“For the same purpose that you are here. To save 
my beloved mistress and her sister, she who loves you." 

“You know ? ” I ask savagely. 

“That old Ludy has done you, old boy,” remarks 
Ah Khy placidly. “But I am going after him to 
avenge my governor and smash old Ludenbaum with 
those receipts for arms.” Then he says with Chinese 
cunning: “ I’ve found out that Captain Chaco, who 
commands the one hundred men that make the Span- 
ish force in that out-of-the-way place is the bloodiest 
patriot Spain ever had. Chaco shall do Ludy for me, 
do him, till he’s planted in a sugar field ! ” 

“Yes,” says Ata Tonga commandingly. “Khy my 
brother, can now use those receipts without damage to 
our insurrection. Our cause is no more. Our rebel- 
lion is — is sold out. The great Aguinaldo will go to 
Hong Kong to receive money enough to make him rich, 
he and a few others,” he jeers. “ As for the rest of us, 
we must bow to the Captain-General before the 27th of 
December, or die. ” 

“And you die ? ” I whisper. 

“No, I bow.” 

“That’s good sense.” 

“I bow until I rise again. But it isn’t that which 
fills my heart with fire now. It is the despair of my 
adored lady, whose father is surely dead.” 

“ How do you know that?” 

“ I have smelt his grave ! ” 

“The devil!” 

“ It is under the gravel walk just in front of the steps 


JACK CURZON. 


196 

leading to the front door of his bungalow. The" Span- 
iards were in a hurry and did not dig deep.’’ 

“Do you know anything of Sehorita Maud’s cursed 
marriage ? ” I whisper with a sigh. 

‘ ‘ Nothing except — a lie ! It is said here that she has 
honored by the glories of her hand a man she loathes. 
But, Brothers, I will be your guide up the river across 
the great lagoons, over the wavy grass plains, unto the 
edge of the grand mountains, into the land of wonders,” 
he says. “ By the aid of the Tagal you shall be safe not 
only from the guns of the few Filipinos who remain in 
arms, but also from the poisoned arrows of the lurking 
Negrito. You come ? ” 

“ I come as I love Mazie Gordon ! ” 

“Then we start to-night ! ” 

“ At once ! As a merchant I can engage a craft to 
carry us to the Pampanga River,” I answer. “This 
would be difficult to you.” 

'‘Dios, then here in half an hour ! ” And we three 
grip hands and know we mean it ; notwithstanding 
Khy’s clasp is clammy, and our conversation has been 
in lowest whisper, and the gloom of the room is such 
that we only catch each other’s flashing eyes. 

From this I stride away to Martin, Thompson & Co.’s 
to make quick preparations for myj'ourney, and send a 
messenger to tell young Budlong to take charge of the 
business while I am absent. 

In my downtown office, I, fortunately have a good 
shooting suit and plenty of sporting ammunition. I 
light up the room, for it is now quite dark, and am just 
raging myself in a good serviceable jungle costume, 
and seeing that I have cartridges enough, and getting 
down an old Sporting rifle, when suddenly there comes 
a thundering rap on my door. 

I hear young Simpson of the English Consul’s office 
outside. He shouts : “Jack ! Are you there?” 

“ Yes ! ” I answer. 

“ Let me in, quick ! ” 

And I opening the door. Tommy comes in with a 
very troubled yet official look on his face. He has a 
naval officer’s boat cloak over his arm, though the night 
is warm. 

‘ ‘ What do you want, old man ? ” I say testily. * * I’m 
in a hurry.” 


JACK CURZON. 


197 


*‘So am I. Tve just got sixty seconds to save your 
life. A file of Spanish soldiers will arrest you in two 
minutes. You’re mixed up in that damned Katipunan 
business. Some one has reported it. Walker sent me 
down here to get you out of the country to dodge a 
diplomatic row.” 

“ I won’t go ! ” 

“Ah, thank Heaven, Jack, you’re not mixed up in 
that cursed society. Stay here and we’ll protect you 
if the Daphne has to open her guns upon Manila to do 
it,” says Tommy, eager to uphold British rights. “ By 
the Lord, we’ll cable and have half the China squadron 
in this bay in a jiffy.” 

To this I make no reply. I am putting cartridges in 
my revolver. 

“ What the devil are you doing that for.? ” he asks ; 
then goes on : “You’re not connected in anyway 
with the Katipunan ? ” 

“ That’s none of your business.” 

But I don’t bluff little Tommy. Suddenly Simpson 
assumes an official air, and cries commandingly : “I 
charge you to answer in the Queen’s name ! ” 

“I am a full-fledged blood-brotherhood Filipino!” 
I say savagely. “ Look at my arm 1 ” 

‘ ‘ Good God I Then you’ve got to get out of Manila. ” 
won’t till I’ve blown out the brains of that infer- 
nal Ludenbaum.” 

“ You must I You’re crazy. I have six sailors here 
behind that door from her Majesty’s Daphne to drag 
you down to the boat if you make resistance. We’re 
not going to have our Government and Spain at log- 
gerheads about an English subject dying a dog’s death 
before a firing party in the Luneta. Here, this’ll dis- 
guise you 1 ” 

With this Simpson throws the officer’s boat cloak 
over me. 

Perchance I am weak from the thundering smashes 
that have come upon my brain, within the hour. Any- 
way, after a fruitless struggle, in which my strength is 
as naught, four great big stalwart English jack-tars half 
drag, half carry me down to a man-of-war gig which 
is waiting at the Pasig landing. Under the Consul’s 
privileges and those of the English Navy the boat has 
no custom house examination. 


JACK CURZON. 


198 

Little Simpson springs in beside me and whispers to 
the coxswain, who is steering : “Tell your men to hang 
on to him. Look at his eyes ! He may jump over- 
board !’' 

“You needn't fear that,” I answer in half maniac 
despair, “ I’ll live until I send that infernal German 
to Hell ahead of me ! 

So I, a dazed, smashed-up mental wreck, am, despite 
my struggles, hoisted up the side-ladder of Her Majesty's 
Daphne and turned over to the surgeon of the ship, 
who jabs into me a hypodermic syringe, and, curse 
him, takes all the senses out of me. 

The next morning I wake to find myself in a cabin 
just off the wardroom, the Daphne driving through the 
blue waters of the China Sea — and think in a half 
dazed way the whole thing is a nightmare. 

But the noise of the machinery and the motion of 
the vessel shakes me into a kind of sentiency. Then 
some scraps of conversation coming from the ward- 
room mess, drive daggers through my aching head. 

“It's deuced cheerful, that young cock sparrow in 
there has given us a trip to Hong Kong,” says a nau- 
tical voice. “ My wife will meet me on the Praya.” 

“Yes, jerking Jackie Curzon out of the grip of Spain 
has given us a run to ‘sweethearts and wives,’” laughs 
another. 

With a horrid groan — I remember ! 

Every revolution of that accursed propeller, churning 
under the stern, is taking me away from her I love, she 
who is being dragged into the recesses of the great 
tropic island — for what purpose — to Nueva Ecija — 
where El Corregidor is nigh omnipotent ! The place 
Maud has warned me of ! 

Then words come to me again from the wardroom 
breakfast table in a horrid jumble. 

“I say the girl that got young Curzon into this mess 
is deuced pretty — old Bully Gordon’s daughter.” 

“Yes, I had my eye on the little lady one day as 
she was driving on the Malceon.” 

“Yes, but her sister ; she's the stunner ! ” 

“Married to old Ludenbaum, the fat-eyed German ; 
lots of money though.” 

“The very day her father died.” 

“It is said old Gordon expired of the D. T.’s just as 


JACK CURZON. 


199 


the troops arrested him. ATagal conspirator had been 
in his house disguised as a flunkey.” 

“Oh, but that’s nothing! Six months ago, I had it 
from a Yankee officer the bride was engaged to a man 
in their squadron. You saw him in Hang Kow, dark- 
eyed chap 1 ” 

“By Jove!” I laugh. “The news I bring will 
make Phil Marston dance a sailor’s hornpipe on his 
quarter-deck ! ” 

Am I becoming delirious again ? I must be ! For 
now to me come words that seem to put pandemonium 
in my brain. 

“The skipper’s carrying on like blazes. He’s got a 
wife on Mount Austin. Fifteen knots, isn’t it. Chief?” 

“ A little better.” 

“Fiften knots an hour from her I love? ” I scream. 
Then springing up I stalk like a ghost in pajamas into 
the wardroom, pale, disheveled, my eyes blazing like 
searchlights — at least that is what the surgeon told 
me — and astound them all by commanding : “Stop 
those engines, chief engineer ! Fifteen knots from 
her I love ! From the girl I was to have married this 
morning ! Damn it, I am captain now ! Stop your 
engines ! ” 

Then, for they have all sprung up, the surgeon flies 
at me and jabs his hypodermic once more into my 
arm, and, God bless him, gives me — nothingness ! 


CHAPTER XVIII. 

“that’s a yarn for the marines ! ” 

I WAKE in a room of the Hong Kong Hospital some- 
thing like six weeks after this — at least that is what 
Doctor Tomax, the surgeon in attendance, tells me 
after I have become sufficiently convalescent to be 
permitted to talk ; but not permitted to talk upon the 
subject that flies into my brain with every throb of re- 
turning strength. Each additional drop of blood that 
nourishment puts into my attenuated body seems to be 
another drop of bull-dog determination that I’ll not be 
beaten in my love. 


200 


JACK CURZON. 


But linked with this is the awful feeling embodied 
in that disheartening Americanism: “What are you 
going to do about it ? 

Apparently nothing — while I am in the hospital. 
For Tomax, who is as considerate a surgeon as ever 
cut off a man’s leg, will make no answer to my in- 
quiries in a voice that trembles from the weakness of 
the fever. They say it is jungle fever. I know it 
is brain fever. Manila is healthy ; I was strong ! 
No more ardent bridegroom ever looked forward with 
pulses bounding with the vigor of youthful love to his 
wedding day than I, before that pile-driving succession 
of surprises, chagrins, horrors and despairs, capped by 
the climax of the British consul kindly shanghieing me 
out of Manila to save my life, knocked me into a men- 
tal cocked-hat. 

To my whispered: “The news from Manila, for 
God’s sake!” the surgeon says: “Wait till you are 
stronger, my boy,” and I can get nothing out of him. 

So I take his advice and get stronger, the doctor 
says, very fast ; but to me itds slow as Chinese progress. 
For it is two weeks more and pretty well into the 
middle of February, 1898, before I am on my pins and 
able to be moved to some pleasant rooms on Mount 
Austin, which Thompson, one of my chiefs, a hard- 
headed but kind hearted old Scotchman, has engaged 
for me, the firm having shown their friendly feelings 
towards me by many attentions during my illness. 

To my inquiries as to news from Manila, Thompson, 
as he settles me in my quarters, remarks : “Wait till 
you’re stronger, me lad.” 

“ Is it so bad as that ? ” I falter. 

No, it is good news.” 

“ Good news?” 

“The best I Hemp has gone up! But don’t you 
excite yourself. The two last cargoes you shipped, 
our cables tell us, arrived in England in very good 
shape. But I’m afraid from what the Spaniards say 
about ye, we’ll nae be able to send yer back to Manila 
for some little time. They’re making a deel of a row 
about ye down there. Young Budlong writes me the 
Spanish officials say ye were connected with that chiel 
Aguinaldo in some way, furnished his arms and muni- 
tions o’ war. A sma’ private venture on yer own 


JACK CURZON. 


201 


account, eh, me bra’ laddie ? Aguinaldo is in Hong 
Kong now shrieking out that the Spaniards ha' nae 
paid him all the hush money they agreed to. Has he 
settled with ye in full, mon ? ” 

To this I give a kind of hideous laugh, and ask : 
“Aren’t there any private letters for me from young 
Budlong ? ” 

“ Hoot, yes. But Budlong wrote us nae to gi’e ’em 
ta ye ’till ye were as strong as a brayin’ bullock. 
Budlong likes ye, and particularly begs we'll keep an 
eye that ye do nae come back to Manila. He says yer 
life would nae be worth a groat if the Spanish Governor 
General got his clutches on yer wind-pipe, me bra’ 
arms smuggler. — Don’t fret about getting to business, 
when ye’re strong enough, yer desk is waiting for ye.” 

But all this makes me doubly anxious to read Bud- 
long’s private news. 

Probably thinking that my health will not be im- 
proved by anxiety and that I will be able to bring my 
mind down to business with greater rapidity if I know 
the worst, about the middle of February, Thompson 
sends to me the packet from Budlong which seems to 
have dodged the Spanish censor, by being brought by 
the captain of one of our trading vessels. It has no 
postage stamps on it. 

I open it to find two letters. 

One of these makes me start with astonishment. It 
is addressed to mein the German script ofLudenbaum, 
a penciled note on the envelope by Budlong stating it 
had arrived at our Manila office the day I had spent in 
Cavite, had been left for me on my desk and apparently 
had been unobserved by me in the hurry of my rapid 
flight. 

I tear it open and grind my teeth over the following : 

Binondo, December 14M, 1897. 

My Esteemed Friend: 

You will, I know, congratulate me on 
my nuptials to a young lady for which you have always asserted a 
friendship, Fraulein M;aud Ysabel Gordon, who, as a child, became 
my wife eight years ago. The completion of these happy nuptials I 
now take the honor to announce to you. 

Also it is my sorrow to relate the death of my valued friend, the 
late Captain Silas Salem Gordon, who came to an end that he, I am 


202 JACK CURZON. 

sure, was pleased with, a painless expiration from the pleasures of 
Bacchus. 

By the last wishes and also the last written Will and Testament 
of the deceased, my old comrade, his youngest daughter, Fraulein 
Mazie Inez Gordon, is placed under my sole control, direction and 
guardianship, to which, of course, is now added my authority as the 
husband of her elder sister. 

Acting by this authority for Fraulein Mazie’s best interests, I am 
resolved to cancel and annul som feeble hope of marriage the child 
has held out to you in her innocence of the world ; your situation 
as clerk hardly warranting you in looking towards one whose for- 
tune is so much beyond yours. 

Therefore upon my return, in case I should deem it best to bring 
Fraulein Mazie Inez Gordon with me to Manila, I will esteem it a 
favor if you will kindly withdraw from any persecution of the inno- 
cent child, whom I shall not permit to receive any attentions or visits 
from you. 

Fraulein Mazie being still well under age by Spanish law, do not 
doubt the child in my house will be kept closely guarded and before 
my return to Manila, will also have been taught to be thoroughly 
obedient to my command. 

A sharp German governante will not be so easily hoodwinked as 
the old imbecile Spanish duenna who used to permit her charge to 
accept your attentions. So please keep your distance. 

These suggestions I make with the greatest esteem, wishing to 
save you any further trouble in a matter that is now entirely finished 
and obliterated. 

Yours, with extreme friendship, 

Adolph Max Ludenbaum. 

To 

John Talboys Curzon, Esq. 

This fishy, cold-blooded epistle makes me half in- 
sane with a kind of hopeless yet fiendish rage. “By 
the Lord Harry, he will not permit Mazie to receive 
my visits ! He will coerce my darling ! He has got 
a stern old German governante for her who will teach 
her to be obedient ! This infernal Teutonic authorita- 
tive brute says my love for this girl, who should have 
been my bride two months ago, is finished ! By 
Heaven ! This means El Corregidor ! " As I shiver 
at the thought I determine to go back to Manila, Span- 
ish firing party or not.” No sharp German governante 
can keep me from seeing my darling ! No Dutch guar- 


JACK CURZON. 


203 


dian shall prevent my making Mazie Gordon my 
bride ! ” 

This raving, idiotic in its impotency, dies away as I 
think of the hopelessness of my situation, of Mazie’s. 
I can’t go back to the Philippines without becoming 
the victim of Spanish military law. My sweetheart is 
in Nueva Ecija far in the wilds of Luzon, where the 
handful of Spanish troops which make its garrison is 
headed by some martinet captain or lieutenant who 
will, of course, give his authority and aid to her enemies 
and mine. The judge of the local court is doubtless a 
friend, probably the tool of El Corregidor. 

With a sigh of hopeless misery I open the next letter. 
It reads : 


English Club, Ermita, December 2'jtk, 1897. 
Dear Old Boy: — 

You’ve got yourself in a devil of a mess with 
the Spaniards. They say you’re a full fledged Katipunan and have 
been furnishing arms to Aguinaldo; besides being mixed up with 
one of his lieutenants who came in disguised as a Pasig boatman 
to bring about that mutiny of the Carabineros. 

I simply tell you this to prevent you coming back, no matter how 
great your temptation on account of your love for the daughter of 
old Gordon, who report now says, died of alcoholism just about the 
time he was arrested and taken to the citadel. 

His daughter, the fascinating Miss Mazie, has naturally gone away 
with her sister, whose wedding is announced to that fat German 
Ludenbaum. The bride, Maud, must be a kind of fast-and-loose 
creature, flirtatious as the very deyil, an accomplishment she prob- 
ably picked up in the United States. Report here says she was en- 
gaged to an American officer, and yet for eight years had been the 
legal wife of old Ludy, who had always, as you know, played papa 
to her. 

From the clipping which I enclose, from the Diario de Manila, 
you can see that apparently at a very tender age the dashing Maud 
was united in marriage to Herr Ludy. The extreme youth of the 
girl, you know, is no bar to matrimony in the Philippines. You, 
yourself, have seen them mothers under thirteen years old. 

Everybody is talking about you here. You’d be quite the hero of 
the Club if you came back. But I imagine it would be a dead hero. 

All is going along well in the office, so you needn^t worry about 
business. The Ladoga came in yesterday from Singapore, likewise 
the Boneta from Iloilo, Her Majesty’s Daphne is in the Bay again; 


204 


JACK CURZON. 


but no officer of ’em knows anything about you or will acknowledge 
to ever having placed optics on you, though I think the Spanish 
Government suspect they had something to do in your Egyptian- 
Hall-mysterious-cabinet disappearance. 

Drop me a line, old fellow, so that I can tell the inquiring chappies 
of the Club that after making your exit by Maskelyne and Cook’s 
spiritual-cabinet in Manila, you were displayed to slow music in Hong 
Kong alive and kicking; so that they needn’t put you up on the de- 
ceased list. 

Yours most sincerely, 

James C. Budlong. 

P. S. 

No news from Ludy, though his German cashier looks very 
knowing. When I ask him about Dutchy’s nuptials, he says his 
esteemed Herr Adolph is enjoying the delights of a tropical honey- 
moon up in Nueva Ecija, having gone there to look after his bride’s 
and his ward’s estates in that province. 

With this I pick up the clipping from the Manila 
newspaper. It reads, translated into English, about as 
follows : 

“We have the extreme pleasure of announcing that the dis- 
tinguished merchant of the Plaza-de Cervantes, Don Adolph Max 
Ludenbaum, has kindly permitted the registration of his happy nup- 
tials to the beautiful Dona Maud Ysabel Gordon, daughter of the late 
Don Silas Salem Gordon, to be made public; the tender age of the 
child who had given her hand to him preventing his assuming the 
rights and joys of a husband until now. The sudden death of the 
bride’s father from those disorders which high living brings upon old 
age, our columns contained yesterday. 

Don Adolph has permitted us to print a copy of the certificate of 
his marriage taken from the records of the province. 

PARISH OF CARANGLAN ; PROVINCE OF NUEVA ECIJA. 

This is to certify that this day appeared before me and entered 
into the holy bonds of marriage by sacrament of the Church of Rome, 
Herr Adolph Max Ludenbaum, subject of the German Empire, aged 
forty-seven, and Maud Ysabel, daughter of Don Silas Salem Gordon, 
aged fourteen, the father’s consent for same having been reported to 
me as being given verbally. 

Fra Roderigo Anselmo, 

* Cura of Parish. 

Dated the 14th day of September in the year of our Lord eighteen 
hundred and ninety. ” 


JACK CURZON. 


205 

This so-called marriage certificate I scan aghast, and 
think: “This is a very nasty thing to show to poor 
Phil Marston when his ship comes in here some dav 
from North China.” ^ 

“By Heaven, I mutter, “how in the name of 
rnisery shall I tell this dashing young salt water dandy 
his affianced is the wife of that accursed German ? ” 

I have little time to debate this, for within an hour 
my Chinese boy brings in to me 


Philip Preble Marston. 


Ensign^ U. S. Navy. 


I stagger up and find myself pale and trembling, not 
with the weakness of my illness, but at the thought of 
my revealing. 

A minute after a pleasant-faced, hearty-mannered, 
stalwart young fellow — the one 1 have seen in Maud’s 
photograph — with very bright eyes and cheeks bronzed 
by the sun of the China Seas, is shown into my rooms. 

Bringing the sunlight with him, he says breezy as a 
typhoon: “ You’re Jack Curzon, I believe? You’re to 
be married to one sister, I to the other. I've heard so 
much of you in Maud’s letters that I feel as if I knew 
you already.” With this he offers me a cordial hand. 

But as I put my poor weak white fingers into his 
bronzed grip, he suddenly starts, and looking at me, 
mutters : “ Your pardon for intruding. I’m afraid 

you're not recovered from the fever they told me at 
your office had fastened on you in the Philippines.” 

My face perhaps quivers a little at his nuptial sug- 
gestion, which has put a pang into my heart. 

But now I’ll have to put a pang into this bright, 
breezy young lover, probably more unnerving, because 
his torment will come sudden as a stroke of lightning. 

“You’ll excuse my running after you,” goes on the 
sailor, but I grew so anxious about Maud that I got 


2o6 


JACK CURZON. 


leave to run down to Manila, and en route walked 
into Martin, Thompson & Co/s offices here, thinking 
they might have letters from you in the Philippines. 
I have not heard from Miss Gordon for two months, 
and she always wrote to me once a week. Pm — I’m 
afraid something’s happened to her.” His firm lip 
trembles beneath his long drooping mustache. “You 
left Manila about that time ? ” he asks. 

“ Yes,” I say. 

“Maud, when you saw her last, was well?” His 
voice is very anxious. 

“Perfectly well when I — I left her.” 

“You have of course heard of her, by her sister’s 
letters since you left ? ” he goes on eagerly. 

“ Not — not a word.” 

Here my face speaks to him, and he cries out : 
“ Good Lord ! What is it you’re afraid to tell me ? ” 

For answer I hand him the little note that Maud 
charged me to give her sailor-boy, the last night on 
which I saw her. 

This he tears open hastily, though I can see, rever- 
ently, and runs his eyes in a kind of gloating ecstacy 
over the handw^riting of his beloved — for the first few 
lines — then his brow becomes gloomy and his eyes 
surprised. After he has read every word of it he thinks 
deeply for a minute, and passes his hand over his fore- 
head in a troubled kind of way. Then he turns to me 
and says, pulling his mustache nervously: “I don’t 
entirely understand this. This letter seems to be writ- 
ten by — by my darling with a premonition of some — 
some misfortune coming to her. It seems to me,” 
the poor fellow’s lip is quivering now, “a — a kind of 
farewell. ” 

“ Yes,” I break in. “Won’t you take a chair ? ” 

My voice startles him ; he looks at me a moment ; 
then mutters: “You — you have something more to 
tell me. Worse than this ? ” 

“ The very worst ! ” 

“Good God, my darling is dead !” And this stal- 
wart young fellow’s breast begins to pant, and his 
face grow ghastly under its coating of typhoon tan. 

But I break in : “ Maud Gordon,” I can’t bring my- 
self to give the accursed German’s name to the loved 
one of the poor fellow, “ is alive, I believe.” 


JACK CURZON. 


207 


*‘Thank God!’’ His voice grows commanding; 
he says : “Out with it! The greatest kindness you 
can do me is to tell me what you say is the worst news 
I can have from my affianced.” 

“ Do you read Spanish ? ” I ask. 

“Yes. My — my sweetheart taught it to me. Great 
Heaven, man, get under way ! ” 

“Then read this,” I falter; and hand him the clip- 
ping from El Diario de Manila, and watch Phil Marston 
in his agony. 

As he reads the marriage notice the stalwart frame of 
the young ensign begins to tremble. His eyes become 
bloodshot, and a kind of horror gets into them. Then 
he grips a chair with one hand, and reads the thing 
again, though each sentence of the Cura’s certificate 
must be a kris thrust in his heart. 

But the thing over, a sudden flush flies into his 
face, he says to me, a confidence in his voice that 
makes me love him too: “I’ll believe that damned 
lie about the truest girl on earth when this world turns 
upside down ! ” 

Ye Gods, how Maud Gordon would have adored 
her jack-tar boy could she have seen the glorious faith 
in her, this lover shows, as he cries : “That’s a yarn 

FOR THE MARINES ! ” 


CHAPTER XIX. 

THE DATE BOOK OF THE CHINAMAN. 

Then after pacing the room about as if it were his 
quarter-deck, Mr. Marston says sharply : “You know 
more about this than I ; tell me all about it. But re- 
member that I no more believe what is in that news- 
paper than I believe in — in the Flying Dutchman. 

“Very well,” I say, “let me give you some 
whisky. ” 

“No, nothing to blur my brain — only your news, 
which will require a cool head to analyze and a — a 
strong heart to bear,” he adds with a sigh. 

So I tell him the story of Herr Max Ludenbaum and 
his affianced, and incidentally, of course, my own 
hapless love affair. 


2o8 


JACK CURZON. 


To this Phil Marston listens without questions or in- 
terruptions, save once or twice when I mention his 
sweetheart’s despairing struggle, tears come into his 
eyes, his big breast throbs, his strong hands clinch 
themselves. 

As I finish, he asks quick as a torpedo-catcher : *‘Is 
that all you know ? ” 

“Yes !” 

“Then we’ll try and know more. Two or three 
times in your yarn you’ve mentioned a Chinaman, 
Hen Chick. Is he in Hong Kong.? ” 

“Yes,^’ I answer. “I had intended to question 
him myself as soon as f was strong enough to get 
about. ” 

“ Can’t you get under way now ? ” 

I spring up with a vigor in my emaciated frame that 
astounds the sailor. As I have told the story of his 
sweetheart to the young American, my sweetheart’s 
wrongs have got into my head, and put into my limbs 
a supposititious strength. 

“Heave ahead!” mutters the young sailor. “I 
want to know what took place between my affianced 
when she was a child and this Ludenbaum, who seems 
to have had a fatherly interest in her until he replaced 
it by a more ardent affection. I want to know about 
Ludenbaum,” he says slowly and grimly. “ He’s the 
man I’m gunning for.” 

With that I astound the young officer by belying my 
^ppearmice, running to the door, and ordering my 
house boy to get two ’rikshas. 

“That’s right!” cries Marston. “Fire up your 
boilers, old man. We’ve got to sail in company. 
Our fates are linked by our girls. Maud would defend 
her young sister till she dies. Mazie lost to you 
will mean Maud lost to me, lost to herself. But by 
the blessing of God, this shall not be ! Let’s get at 
the Chinaman. Besides this merchant’s son, Khy, the 
Chinese exquisite,” he grins a little here despite the 
misery in his voice, '‘has, with Oriental subtlety, ac- 
cording to your story, suggested a pitfall in Nueva 
Ecija for the enemy of his father. He was going 
therewith that pointer-nosed Katipunan to bring about 
Ludenbaum’s destruction. Perhaps we’ll get news 
of the Yale-Mongolian-rounder from his Confucian 


JACK CURZON. 


209 


daddy ; ’’ and the sailor-lover breaks into a kind of 
miserable, jeering laugh which does not impose 
upon me. 

I can see he is fighting to keep himself from think- 
ing of the strait of his sweetheart, though once he 
smites his hands together, and mutters: ‘‘If Maud 
had told me. Every letter she wrote me must have 
been a self-sacrificing falsehood. But by Heaven, 
I must not think of her ! " His voice loses the elas- 
ticity of youth and becomes harsh and grating as he 
breaks out : “I must only think of the man who dares 
to call himself her husband.” 

By this time we are at my door. He springs into 
the 'riksha and cries to the coolie : “Full steam ahead, 
almond eyes ! ” and tosses him a silver dollar. 

In ten minutes we are in Tai-ping-shan, and see 
“ Hen Chick & Co.” in Roman letters above a number 
of Chinese hieroglyphics, which I suppose mean the 
same thing. 

Twenty seconds after the twin accountant of the 
one in the Rosario bazar, stops clicking the buttons 
on his abacus, and remarks to my inquiries: “You 
want to see Hen Chick?” 

“Yes, immediately.” 

“ Your name ? ” 

I give it, and he retires into an inner room. 

Half a minute after the accountant comes out, bows 
humbly, and says: “Hen Chick want to see you 
quick I ” 

So the young naval officer and myself walk in to be 
received with that affable Chinese hospitality which 
generally astonishes and impresses Europeans. 

A dignified, gray-tailed Chinaman, his eyes sharp as 
a ferret's, shaded by Bismarckian spectacles, robed in 
a long flowing silken gown, beneath which are seen 
white Chinese shoes with padded soles, greets us and 
remarks blandly, yet knowingly: “Mr. Marston, 
Yankee sailor, me sab6 you. Mr. Jack Curzon, Eng- 
lish merchant, me sab^ you beiiy much. Me tink you 
come soon. Lee Sam ! ” he claps his hands, “ Cigars 
and wine ! ” At his bidding the named refreshments 
are offered us. 

“No champagne,” whispers Marston: then asks 
hurriedly : “Why did you think we'd come?” 

14 


210 


JACK CURZON. 


“ Don’t hurry the old man,” I whisper. “Drink his 
champagne, smoke his cigars. You won’t get your 
information a bit quicker by refusing the hospitality 
Hen Chick means with his whole heart.” 

Thus instructed, the young American grabs a 
cheroot, puts it into his mouth wrong end first, lights 
it in a hurried way, and tosses off a glass of cham- 
pagne like a streak of lightning. 

“Good!” laughs the Chinaman, “ More wine for 
Melican officer ! ” 

The wine disappears as if it were water, and Mars- 
ton whispers to me : “Tell him to heave ahead.” 

And Hen Chick does heave ahead 1 

“You come to flind ’bout old Bully Gordon and him 
daughters.? You sabe Gordon’s daughters.?” he mur- 
murs placidly. 

“Sabd Gordon’s daughters?” breaks out the ensign. 
“You bet we do I ” 

“Daughters not much count,” remarks the China- 
man musingly, and would go on into a philosophical 
discussion of the worthlessness of woman from the 
Chinese standpoint, but I suddenly ask him: “You 
sabd Ludenbaum?” 

At this Hen Chick’s face, which had been an unread- 
able Eastern face, lights up with a devilish, though 
monkey-like ferocity. He mutters : “ Me sabe Luden- 
baum I ” then gazes at me and adds, with Oriental 
cunning: “You hate Ludenbaum, too. So does that 
Yankee man there. That Yankee man bites him cigar 
in two whenever I say Ludenbaum.” 

At this the ensign, with a miserable laugh, tosses 
his third cheroot away as Hen Chick goes on : “You 
sabe Ah Khy? Ah Khy is cunning as a one-eyed 
dragon, and lucky as the dynasty of Shang. Ah Khy, 
all same as Melican man. He go away after Luden- 
baum 1 ” 

“Then you think,” breaks in the American, “Khy 
will sink the damn German .? ” 

“Sure as the tax-gatherer^ always collects taxes; 
sure as ” 

But Chinese similes are suddenly interrupted by Mar- 
ston. “Now,” he says, “I want to know what 
relation Ludenbaum bore to the skipper Bully Gor- 
don, and what do you know of the life of a young 


JACK CURZON. 


21 1 


lady you tried to aid ; how it is connected with that 
infamous German. Do you know anything of this? 
Do you read Spanish ? ” And he shows Hen Chick the 
clipping from the Diario de Manila^ which I translate to 
him. 

At this the Chinaman’s eyes grow very curious. He 
says to the impatient naval officer: “Young man of 
the fiery voice and dragon eye, I did warn the young 
woman called Maud, the daughter of Gordon not to go 
to Manila, but I only warned her because I knew 
Ludenbaum wanted her to go to Manila. And what 
him wanted me no want. I only sure Ludenbaum hate 
Bully Gordon like opium-smuggler hate custom-house 
men. This I know when I was in Nueva Ecija — you 
sabe Neuva Ecija ! — starting tobacco factory of which 
the Spanish gubernador and alcalde robbed me. You 
sab^ Spanish gubernador P ’’ 

“But this notice of marriage,” 1 ask, “ do you think 
it is true ? ” 

“Huh! Anyting be true in Philippines. But you 
sabe date!" He taps the Spanish newspaper clipping*; 
then calls : “ AhYek 1 ” claps his hands and whispers 
something to an old clerk who comes from the outer 
office, and the two jabber together in Chinese till 
Marston whispers to me: “Why don’t he come to 
business ? ” 

But just here the Chinaman does come to business in 
a way that astounds us. 

The old clerk brings in an ancient and worn Chinese 
account book. Turning the leaves of this over. Hen 
Chick apparently calculates, points to the hieroglyphics 
on the page and remarks: “You sabe him? Him 
date I Just same as Melican man’s date, fourteenth of 
September eighteen hundred ninety. You sabe that 
date, Ludenbaum and me — we fiends then — you sabd 
fiends ? ” 

“Yes, I sab^ fiends!” mutters Marston. “Heave 
ahead, please,” and tosses his fifth cheroot away. 

“ That, before Ludenbaum stole my cash by Chinese 
law,” mutters Hen Chick. “ Then I think the German’s 
breath was sweet as burning punk. On that day — you 
sabe, Ludenbaum go partners with me at my store in 
Jaen — You sabe Jaen ! The whole day we talk bout 
it — talk like mandarins at war council. We begin at 


212 


JACK CURZON. 


sunrise, we talk till moonlight. So Ludenbaum that 
day," he taps paper, “ could marry no girl in Ca^ran- 
glan." 

“ Then Ludenbaum couldn’t have married Maud the 
day of your partnership ? ” bursts out Phil Marston. 

“No! You sabe, NO " cries Hen Chick excitedly. 
“You sabe Gordon girl, him beautiful as Palace of 
Yuen ? She libe on father’s plantation Carranglan, 
up in mountains, thirty miles far from Jaen, where 
Ludenbaum and me talk all day till night." 

“Good Lord, this certificate is a lie 1 " I mutter. 

Lying as custom-house bill of goods I " cries Hen 
Chick. Then his face grows quizzical, and he chuckles 
to himself: “Ludenbaum — you sabe Ludenbaum — 
him heap deep rascal, cruel as Dynasty of Chow ! 
Spanish priest — you sabe Spanish priest, Roderigo An- 
selmo ? Rebels burn him up a year ago. Know that 
because my store on Rosario subscribed — you sabd sub- 
scribed ? — for Masses for him soul in Manila Cathedral." 

“ Don’t you think, if Ludenbaum is so infernally deep 
he may get away with your son Khy ? " mutters the 
young American officer. 

“Khy take him chances. Me make Khy cut off 
rooster’s head and swear — you sabe swear .? — to finish 
my enemy Ludenbaum, or no come back. Me tell 
him: ‘No more money I You not smart 'nough for 
Ludenbaum, you not smart ’nough for me I ’ Tell 
him : ‘ Me want Ludenbaum dead.’ You sabe Luden- 
baum ? the German man what calls up old law of China 
to make me pay debts of my fool brother in Canton, 
who gamble in tea, silk, opium. How you like to 
pay your blother’s debts? Good many Melicans no 
like pay their own debts. You sabe Khy — you sab^ 
Ludenbaum — you sabe me — you sabe Maud Gordon. 

You sabe him, Ludenbaum heap no good. You look out 
for him. Him tell him married to gal. How you like 
that ? He tell her him wife. How you like that, eh ? 
You Melican man good to fight ; you Englishman good 
to fight ; you fight for gals I Chinaman know too much 
to fight for gals. But you fight for gals. You high- 
binders, you kill Ludenbaum, if Khy no fix him ; then 
come here, you sabe'? Me give you ten thousand ) 

taels — you sabe taels ? " And the Chinaman going into j 

a paroxysm of Celestial rage, tries to bribe us to murder, J 


JACK CURZON. 213 

But it doesn’t need his money to put the hearts of 
fiends in either Phil Marston or me. 

We are no sooner on the street than the young 
American rubs his hand to his brow in a dazed kind of 
way, and whispers : “Not married to her ! — but claim- 
ing, by Heaven, the rights of husband over my darling 1 
What does that mean ? If Ludenbaum should attempt 
to enforce them it would be — My God ! ” 

But I grab him by the shoulder and say : “ Get into 
the ’riksha. Come to the Club. We will discuss it 
there.” For the young fellow’s face is ghastly pale, his 
eyes have a half-insane fire in them. He is thinking 
of his sweetheart struggling to protect her young 
beauty from infamy at the hands of a putative husband. 

Suddenly the American by a mighty effort grows 
calm — an awful calm. Into his eyes comes that steely 
glow that means death, and I know when Phil Marston 
looks into the fat face of Herr Adolph Max Ludenbaum, 
the Emperor of Germany will have one less vassal 
to bend the knee and call him Kaiser. 

“What are you going to do.? ” I ask. 

“What must Ido} Get within hail of my darling 
so that I can succor her. That’s the first thing to do. 
I’ll have passage for Manila within the hour. Wait for 
me at the English Club. Before I sail I want your 
advice, it’s your sweetheart as well as mine.” 

The young fellow springing into his ’riksha, calls 
“ The American Consul’s office ! ” and drives down 
to the Praya to see Rounseville Wildman who rep- 
resents the commercial interests of the United States. 

About thirty minutes after this, Marston breaks in 
upon me at the English Club. 

“ Well ? ” I say eagerly. 

“ Not well ! I asked Wildman, the quickest ship to 
Manila. He looked at me astounded and muttered : 
‘What, going on your own hook.?’ ‘Yes,’ I replied, 

‘ and in a devil of a hurrry ! ' Then Mr. Wildman 
hinted to me it wouldn’t be good policy for an officer 
of the United States Navy to visit at this time the 
Philippines. I suppose it’s their diplomatic way of 
trying to avoid entanglements between us and Spain, 
on which this Cuban question is straining our hawsers. 
The Consul didn’t say much to me, being very busy, 
even excited I thought. He was using our cipher 


214 


JACK CURZON. 


cable code. Looking over his tablegrams he handed 
me a wire that’s broken my heart.” 

“What is it ? ” 

“This ! An order from my commanding officer 
canceling my leave of absence, and directing me to 
wait in Hong Kong and join the Petrel when she 
gets here.’’ With this the young man goes on, 
anguish in his determined voice: “ But I must go to 
her ! I must — ” he throws up his hands, and pressing 
them to his forehead, moans — “give up my career! 
By Heaven, that’s what it means 1 It’s my ambi- 
tion or my persecuted sweetheart’s safety I It’s 
my career as a sailor or Maud ; and I wouldn’t be 
worth my salt if I didn’t choose Maud 1 Go I must ! See 
me write my death warrant as an officer of Uncle Sam. 
See me sail no more under the flag of my dear country.” 

Jove 1 how Maud Gordon would love her sailor boy 
— as he makes sacrifice for her ; the perspiration of 
agony on his brow and writes the fatal words that 
will take him forever from the service that he loves 
only second to the girl whose cries for succor come 
to him from far Luzon ! 

But even as he signs it, I hear excited exclamations 
in the next room, and Bob Robertson, one of the of- 
ficers of the cable company, strolls in and says : 
“ Hello, Curzon, glad to see you about once more, old 
man. You’ve heard the news, I suppose? It will 
interest your friend there.” He glances towards the 
American uniform. 

“What news?” 

“ This ! It’s just been cabled from Washington that 
in time of peace, at dead of night, the American battle- 
ship Maine was blown up in the harbor of Havana.” 

“Blown up I ” cries Marston, his pen stopping in the 
middle of his name. “ I had a friend on board. Does 
it mention George P. Blow ? ” 

“Saved, I believe,” whispers Robertson. “The 
details have not come to hand, but three hundred or 
more American seamen were blown to death in their 
hammocks. ” 

“ By what ? ” 

“By an outside torpedo, supposed to be fired by 
Spanish treachery.” 

“By Spanish treachery ! ” cries the young American 


JACK CURZON. 


215 


• 

officer, and tearing up his half-signed resignation, 
tosses it away. Then he whispers to me: “By 
Heaven, now I know what Wildman meant when he 
said ‘on my own hook.’ Now I know what this tele- 
graphic order means. It means, by the God of battles, 
that the Asiatic squadron will go with me to Manila ! 
By the Lord, my shipmates’ll fire to avenge the Maine, 
but I’ll fire to avenge, what’ll make me shoot as straight 
as any man in the fleet ! ” 


CHAPTER XX. 

THE VENGEANCE OF A NATION. 

So it comes to pass in the ensuing days that I and 
Phil Marston, like two fiends upon the shore, go to 
watching for the arrival of the American squadron and 
signs of coming fight ; watching with an awful venge- 
ful eagerness that makes us wonder why America 
lingers so long in seeking a Spanish expiation that 
to us seems righteous as the punishment of Sodom and 
Gomorrah. 

During this time I write for further advices from 
Manila, but Budlong’s letters always say : “no news 
from Nueva Ecija, no tidings of Ludenbaum or the 
daughters of the dead Gordon ” — making a horrible un- 
certainty that seems to put a relentless cruel spirit into 
me and the young American officer. 

Marston grows gaunt from very rage, writhing im- 
potently as he mutters : “Good God, Maud will think 
me recreant ! My loved one will cry out, I have de- 
serted her in her extremity.” 

As for me, each coming day adds to my strength 
and savageness. I am in nearly my normal health, 
though mentally racked by a strange mixture of anx- 
iety and ferocity when the Ensign, who has been watch- 
ing on Signal Hill, runs down to our office and whispers 
“ By Jove, the Olympia's dropping anchor ! ” 

And I, looking out on Hong Kong Roads, see a 
great big white protected cruiser flying the flag of 
Commodore George Dewey, commanding the U. S. 
Asiatic squadron. 


2i6 


JACK CURZON. 


Marston going off to report to his flag-officer, comes 
back from this and says : “By Yankee Doodle, there's 
a great man on board that vessel ! " He points to- 
wards the Olympia. 

“Who?" 

“ The officer who commands our squadron ! Dear 
old Admiral Taylor always told me that if George 
Dewey ever got the chance he’d make his mark on 
the sign-board of history ; not with a paint-brush that 
any lubber can wash off, but with a cold-chisel, al- 
mighty deep and thundering big, and warranted to 
stand the wear and tear of foul weather and the racket 
of eternal ages ! " 

Apparently the American commodore is at work, 
sharpening his cold chisel. The U. S. cruisers, Boston, 
Co7icord and Petrel, all looking like white yachts, drop 
into the harbor. The Raleigh comes in from the 
Atlantic, via the Suez Canal. 

Marston joins his vessel, a saucy-looking little gun- 
boat of something under nine hundred tons, with 
square rigged foremast and fore and aft sails on her 
main and mizzen, and “ a pretty sharp set of teeth for 
such a little dog, Jack,” as the Ensign says to me; for 
mutual interest and mutual misery have made us by 
this time comrades. 

When he can get the chance the American comes on 
shore ; but he is very busy now, and tells me that they’re 
getting nearer day by day to the Spaniards. 

“By the Lord,” he whispers in my ear, “they have 
brought the crew of the obsolete Monocacy from 
Shanghai to fill up the complements of our vessels to 
fighting strength. ” 

A few days afterwards, about the nineteenth of April, 
as I recollect, the young man confides to me gloat- 
ingly : “We’re putting on our war paint,” and I, look- 
ing out over the harbor, see the beautiful white yacht- 
like American squadron becoming grim and dark, and 
know the color means Spanish blood ; so together we 
shake hands, for we are like two fiends now and not 
ashamed of it. 

Two days afterwards the Baltimore comes in, sent 
from the Pacific coast. “ Do you know what she’s got 
on board ? ” chuckles Marston to me. 

“Coal I ” I say. 


JACK CURZON. 


217 


‘‘Coal be damned! ammunition to kill the Span- 
iards ! ” Then he mutters despairingly: “ If war should 
not come " 

“It must ! ” I cry. “Your prairies are on fire about 
the Maine, The report of the commission is she was 
destroyed by outside explosion. ” 

“ But if the Dons should turn tail and show the white 
feather at the last," snarls Marston, with a muttered 
oath. 

“ Don’t be afraid of that," I answer. “ They’ll fight 
with as much courage and as little discretion as any 
nation upon earth." 

About this time the revenue cutter Hugh McCulloch 
comes up from Singapore, and on her the American 
Consul Williams, who had left Manila at a hint that 
his life was in danger from Augustin the new Captain- 
General of the Philippines. But from him neither 
Marston nor I can get any word of the fate of Gordon’s 
daughters. All Mr. Williams knows is that the young 
ladies have gone to their father’s plantation at Nueva 
Ecija, one of them married to the German merchant 
Ludenbaum — a piece of information which makes 
Maud’s lover look more wicked than a nautical Me- 
phisto. 

This uncertainty makes me half mad also. I envy 
Marston his gloating preparations to kill Spaniards, till 
one day we chance to stand under the big granite shaft 
erected on the road to the Happy Valley “To the joint 
memory of the dead American and English sailors who 
fell fighting together in ’55 against the pirate junks at 
Kuhlan I ” A monument which no English regiment 
marches past without halting while its band plays ‘ ‘ The 
Star Spangled Banner" and “God Save the Queen," 
and then a dirge for the brave tars of the two Anglo- 
Saxon nations who fell as comrades, which they always 
should be, fighting against barbarism. 

Looking on this, I mutter : “ My Heaven 1 if I could 
but go with you and fight my enemy and thine 1 ’’ 

‘ ‘ Come ! " cries the young man. ‘ ‘ By the memory of 
the dead whose names are on that stone ! ' Volunteer I I 
can fix it for you. You know the Philippines — volunteer, 
and go on one of our two big store ships. Dewey has 
bought both of them with lots of coal. He’s not go- 
ing to take any chances of losing the sinews of war by 


2i8 


JACK CURZON. 


the neutrality of the English government after its 
declaration/’ 

“No non-combatant store-ship for me ! ” I mutter 
savagely. “Get me a fighting berth and I’ll go with 
you ! ” 

“ I’ll try to ! ” cries the young man, and running off 
to Pedlars Wharf, goes on board the flagship. So I 
have an interview with Wildman and then am asked a 
few sharp questions by Commodore Dewey as to my 
knowledge of Manila and the Philippines. In which, 
discovering I am a full fledged Katipunan, he laughs 
grimly and sets me to work under Rounseville Wild- 
man to make certain arrangements with Aguinaldo, 
which result in that patriot who has not received the 
balance of his Spanish dole, returning to Manila to 
again make war on Spain, 

Therefore I soon find myself enrolled as a volunteer 
on the Petrel under the title of “Interpreter.” The 
wardroom mess who, through my intimacy with Mars- 
ton by this time know me pretty well, kindly give 
me a seat at their table, and I become rather famous ; 
for I give rise to that wondrous story invented by a 
French naval officer and quoted by a member of the 
British House of Commons, that the American squad- 
ron hired all their gunners from the English fleet, in- 
ducing the tars to desert Her Majesty’s service by a 
bounty of five hundred dollars per man. 

So it comes to pass that I, on Sunday, the twenty- 
fourth of April, steam out on the Petrel in company with 
the Boston, Concord and the two transport steamers 
Nasham and Zapiro to our rendezvous in Mirs Bay. 

On the night of the twenty-fifth we are joined by 
the big Olympia, iheBaltimore and Raleigh, and a thrill 
runs through the squadron as word is passed about 
that war has been declared. 

The next day the \\\X\q McCulloch, the revenue cutter, 
comes dashing in bearing the cable from McKinley that 
gives a free hand to Dewey in the Philippines, and 
every one knows that we will be at the Dons’ throats 
within the week. 

At thought of Spanish set-to, none rejoice so much 
as Philip Preble Marston, though every man upon the 
fleet is fighting mad. Even when our prows are turned 
straight for Manila we seem to steam too slowly for his 


JACK CURZON. 


219 


vengeance, and on Saturday morning, as we sight the 
bold coast and rocky peaks of Luzon, and clear ship 
for action, tossing overboard mess chairs, tables, chests 
and wardroom bulkheads, everything that may pro- 
duce combustion under shell-fire, though no one works 
harder or does his duty more energetically than the 
young Ensign, I know his heart has jumped to the 
interior of the island where his love, suffering or dead, 
but still his love, awaits him. 

All Marston wants is full speed ahead. He growls 
to himself as the squadron slows down for the Balti- 
more, Boston and Concord to look into Subig Bay, in 
case ^e Spanish fleet is lurking there ; and he growls 
still cmeper as, in the early evening, we drop to a three- 
knot speed so that the tropic moon shall sink before 
we reach the Boca Grande and its rays may not dis- 
cover us to the batteries on Corregidor Island. 

At eleven o’clock that night, with every light extin- 
guished or masked, save one at the stern of each ship 
to give her course to the vessel following, we run the 
Boca Grande, the southern channel, the big one, the 
one difficult to mine, into the Bay of Manila. 

The next morning, as the sun rises, I, who have not 
closed my eyes this night, look upon the city in which 
I had loved ana I had lost. 

The same bright sun is above me, the same sizzling 
heat is melting me this immortal Sunday, the first of 
May, as when I first looked upon the ancient town 
erected by the valor of the Conquistadores for old Spain, 
whose power is to receive this day its death blow and 
die in fire and blood on the soft waters of this limpid 
bay. 

Ah, never was there a more beautiful and stately 
arena for gladiatorial nations to meet and battle to the 
death. Around us, as we move past the city, still 
shrouded by the mists of earliest morning, is blue 
water, bounded by shores of green, save where white 
villas peep from the foliage of copse, garden, jungle and 
forest that reaches almost to the moss-grown ramparts 
of the medieval Fort of Santiago and the more modern 
batteries along the Luneta sea front ; beyond the great 
mountains of Malfonso and San Mateo. A back- 
ground quiet in that death-like peace — the peace of the 
tropics. 


220 


JACK CURZON. 


But now the foreground becomes a horrid picture of 
a nation’s vengence i 

We’ve seen our prey ! the Spanish fleet drawn up in 
front of the little Bay of Cavitd 

So leaving merchant vessels and the foreign cruisers 
that lie in front of the city proper, the swift moving 
line of Yankee ships turns sharply to the south and — 
the battle is on ! 

Headed by the Olympia our war vessels in single 
column decked with those great banners that the 
Yankee tars call ‘ ‘ Old Glory, ” steam in front ofthe long 
line of Spanish cruisers, flanked by the frowning 
batteries of Cavite and Sanglei Point. 

The shore guns open on us ; then the fleet of Spain ! 

And I standing under the breathless heat of overhead 
sun, at my station on the Petrel’s deck ready to trans- 
mit the orders of Commander Wood, thank God I 
don’t have to toil below in the more cruel blaze of 
furnace fires in the stoke-hole or the pent-up sweating 
darkness of the magazines where men work stark 
naked. 

Still the wonder is upon me that we are not destroyed 
before we fire one vengeful shot, for just ahead of the 
Olympia, too soon by a minute, go up two great sunken 
mines, and all about us, fly whistling, howling, shriek- 
ing things that lash the water into foam and make the 
air a very hell of sound. 

“The Olympia’s opened, sir!” comes from the 
bridge above ; then : “ The flag ship's signaled ; fire as 
convenient I ” 

I hear the hoarse commands “Port batteries ready ! 
Pass the word to fire, as the guns bear I ” 

With this, our ship becomes a thunder-cloud that 
shoots half-a-hundred lightning bolts a minute ; all done 
by white-skinned sweating automatic demons who 
seem to move precise as clockwork, and hull those 
Spanish ships as coolly and as cruelly as if they were 
but targets and not vessels filled with men made 
in God’s image, who are being maimed, battered and 
blown up and drowned under a fire that makes each 
Spanish deck a shambles — each barbette a torture 
hole. 

Still about us come the flying, whistling, shrieking 
things, and the third time we pass the enemy’s line, the 


JACK CURZON. 


22 


surg^eon puts his head on deck and cries : Why the 
deuce don’t you send down the wounded ? ” 

“There ain’t no wounded ! ” guffaws a ’prentice boy, 
carrying water to his division. 

“Then by Heaven, where are the dead ? ” 

“There ain’t no dead ! cries the captain of a gun, 
smacking his breech block, “not on this side of the 
fight.” 

And so circling round, first port-battery, then star- 
board-battery, and each time getting nearer our foe 
that has now become our victim, biff with Yankee 
common sense taking breakfast between heats, we 
riddle ’em ! we burn ’em ! we sink ’em ! and they go 
down with their flags flying and their guns firing till 
their batteries are awash, these lion-hearted Don Fur- 
iosos, who can die like heros but can’t fight like Yankee 
tars — till all is over and there’s now no Spanish fleet. 

Then we are at the shore batteries who shoot no 
straighter than the vessels. And in an hour or two of 
this, the signals of surrender fly above the forts of 
Cavite and Sanglei Point. All that fly the flag of 
Spain are a few small gunboats who have taken refuge 
in the inner bay behind the arsenal ; with this the signal 
goes up for the Petrel, the baby of the fleet, the light 
draft gunboat, to go in alone and finish them. 

And we do finish them ! At five o'clock that even- 
ing we come steaming out, our little vessel towing 
five Spanish craft of varying sizes from a gunboat of a 
hundred tons to a steam lunch ; the only floating 
things of all that Spanish fleet that met us in its Cast- 
ilian pride this Sunday morning. 

Our squadron is now off the Luneta and cheers us. 
We steam past them and signal that no man on board 
us has suffered by Spanish shot or shell. So it is with 
every vessel flying the American flag ; no man has lost 
the number of his mess. 

Coming from his division, Phil Marston, who has 
done his work this day in that kind of grim clock-like 
ferocity which animates these Yankees when they have 
the devil in their souls, stands beside me and whispers ; 
^‘This was not a battle.” 

“ Not a battle ?” I gasp. 

“No ! it was an execution ! ” 

Then his eyes chancing to catch sight of the flag 


222 


JACK CURZON. 


that is floating over one of the Kaiser’s cruisers, the 
Irene, I think, the young American looks at me and 
mutters : Now for our German friend ! ” 

Just here the Flag Ship signals us again. 

Wood, our commander calls to the deck: ^‘Who 
captured that last steam launch ? ” 

“I did, Sir!” answers Marston. 

“ Then they want you on board the Olympia. You 
were with him, Mr. Curzon, when he made the seizure. 
You’d better go with him 1 ” 

A minute after I am seated beside Phil in the cutter, 
our only boat that will swim. 

From this we climb to the deck of the Olympia on 
the forward part of which the band is playing soft, yet 
joyous music. 

On our reporting to the captain, the flag lieutenant 
says the commodore wishes to see us. 

Stepping aft I look curiously at a man whom this 
day has made immortal — the man who dared, careless 
of submarine mines and heavy guns with plunging fire, 
to run at dead of night the rocky and unlighted Boca 
Grande past Corregidor that he might in the morning 
be alongside his foe and in one short day seize victory 
for himself — an empire for his country. 

At present Commodore Dewey with that careful 
attention to details nearly always allied to great execu- 
tive ability, has just finished listening to a German 
gentleman who is now standing near him with that de- 
precating commercial attitude so common to Teuton 
business men who have been taught by a military 
bureaucracy to respect a uniform. 

As Marston salutes, his flag officer says: “You 
captured that steam launch, the last of your tow.?” 

“Yes, Sir, the three last!” answers Phil modestly, 
then adds eagerly : “But I’m not tired. I — I volunteer 
to head the first boat party to make landing to-night in 
that city.” 

‘ ‘ Humph ! ” remarks the Commodore. ‘ ‘ You’re in a 
hurry to get on shore, young man ! ” 

“Yes, Sir,” replies Marston. Heavens, how eager 
his voice is ! “ I’ve got a sweetheart waiting for me 

in that town.” 

“So has every good-looking fellow in this fleet, I 
guess ! ” chuckles Dewey, and two or three officers 


JACK CURZON. 


223 


standing near stifle a laugh. “But that’s not why I 
sent for you, Mr. Marston. This German gentleman 
has just come off in a shore boat to complain that the 
last launch you captured is the property of his firm and 
as such neutral.” 

“That launch was flying the Spanish flag and is 
even now loaded with cordage and naval stores. As 
such my orders were to capture or destroy it, Sir. I 
obeyed my orders ! ” answers Phil. 

“Quite right!” assents the Commodore as the 
ensign salutes and steps back. Turning to the German, 
the American commander says : “You’ll have to prove 
the launch and cargo are the property of your firm. 
When you do so, they will be returned to you ! ”‘ 

At this the ensign looks a little gloomy. What true 
blue-jacket likes to see prize money blowing away 
from him. 

“ Then as the representative of Herr Adolph Luden- 
baum,” replies the Teuton, “I shall apply for redress 
to the Consul of His Imperial Highness, the Emperor 
of Germany. ” 

“Certainly! We only take Spanish property!” 
answers the Commodore, then says to the officer of 
deck : “ Have this gentleman's boat called ! ” 

As the German retires, the great sea-captain lets his 
eyes rest reflectively upon the foreign squadrons that 
are anchored to the north of the town, and probably 
goes to thinking of that problem, more difficult than 
sinking Spanish fleets which may soon confront him, the 
interference of the so-called neutral German fleet, almost 
unto acts of war. Perchance he mentally forecasts 
the future ; for as he looks over his squadron in which 
there is not one armor-clad, 1 think I hear him mutter : 
“ They promised to send me the Oregon.'' 

But other thoughts are in my brain ; likewise in Phil 
Marston's. At the word Ludenbaum, into the ensign's 
eyes comes a steely blaze. 

Even as I recognize in the dim light of the setting 
sun the precise cashier of the office on the Plaza de 
Cervantes, Phil whispers to me: “Good Lord, that 
band’s playing her favorite waltz — ask him about — 
about her ? ” 

As the German reaches the gangway I stand beside 
him, Marston looking over my shoulder. 


224 


JACK CURZON. 


‘*Has your esteemed Herr Adolph returned to Ma- 
nila ? I asked anxiously. 

Ah, Herr Curzon, glad to see you back. It is now 
safe for you to come,” replies the Teuton. “My 
esteemed Herr Adolph is still enjoying his early mar- 
riage in Nueva Ecija. He was slightly indisposed, at 
least so Frau Ludenbaum wrote me, she is now his 
amanuensis as well as wife.” 

Frau Ludenbaum!” This in alow, hoarse gasp 
from the man behind me. 

“ Yah I The daughter of the late Captain Gordon. 
I — I believe I have her note with me. It is in regard 
to her house in San Miguel released to Herr Luden- 
baum by the efforts of his friend Dan Rafael Lozado. 
Ah, here it is ! ” And the cashier produces from the 
papers in his pocketbook a note that, as I catch the 
handwriting in the rays of the setting sun, makes my 
head reel. 

“By God, it's hers 1 ” This comes from tortured lips 
behind me, and a quick hand plucks the letter from the 
Teuton’s grasp. 

In a flash the cursed thing's torn open. 

“Look, seel” whispers Marston to me; his voice 
coming in quick spasms, “O God of Heaven I She 
signs Maud Ludenhaum ! The German's got my 
love I ” and stricken as if by apoplexy, he staggers and 
falls crashing upon the deck. 

At the sentry's call, some of the after-guard pick him 
up, the grit and sweat of battle still upon his pale face. 

Over him the surgeon mutters : “The heat of this 
awful fighting day has overcome the poor fellow ! ” 
while I gaze speechless upon the only American in all 
that fleet who was badly wounded in that Battle of 
Manila Bay, which destroyed an empire ; and he 
stricken down neither by common shot nor bursting 
shell, nor Mauser bullet, but by a pen in a woman’s 
hand — the hand he loved. 


JACK CURZON. 


225 


BOOK IV. 

DIVORCE BY COURT-MARTIAL. 
CHAPTER XXI. 

*‘G0L darn it ! I HEAR THE EAGLE SCREAM I” 

Months before Dewey's guns reverberated over the 
waters of Manila Bay proclaiming that the power of 
Spain was dead — the same evening that Jack Curzon, 
his heart filled with a coming bridegroom s impatience, 
is kept from his sweetheart by the breaking down of 
the engines of his steam launch at Cavite — pretty Miss 
Mazie Gordon, decked for Senora Valdez’ reception, 
trips into the caida of her father’s, Don Silas’s, big 
bungalow. Frocked in virgin white, she looks demure 
as a saint, yet the love flashes in her eyes tell the saint 
is thinking of coming bridegroom. Piquantly pouting 
she says to her elder sister : “Senorjack? The laggard 
is not here?” And her glance flies eagerly to the 
Japanese screen behind which the young Englishman 
has put so many kisses on her rosy lips. 

“No,” replies Senorita Maud, who, this evening has 
the graceful loveliness of a swan, though her wings 
are rainbow tinted, she being decked in some garment 
of light gauzes of varying colors which gives to her 
semi-brunette loveliness a sparkling radiance that 
makes her face a picture of nervous beauty, as over 
her dazzling features run flashes of varying emotions ; 
though supreme above these is the joy that her sister 
will soon be wedded to the man of her heart. 

For all this matter is now arranged, the Church con- 
tent, the dispensation from the Archbishop received. 
Good Padre de Laviga is to perform the ceremony at 
nine o’clock on the morning of the second morrow. 
Drunken papa’s assent has likewise been obtained. 

13 


226 


JACK CURZON. 


Bully Gordon having grown sober during the morning 
has been appealed to ; and the old sea-dog being peni- 
tent of his outbreak of the night before, has given his 
consent in writing that his daughter Mazie Inez shall 
wed John Talboys Curzon, so that he may not forget 
his words in that stupidity which so often comes with 
prolonged worship at the shrine of Bacchus. 

“Jack had business in Cavite, Mazie,'’ answers her 
sister. “ Probably he is detained. Anyway you know 
he will be here to-morrow night, the night before your 
wedding." Then her tone becomes motherly as she 
goes on : “As I advised him to be a good husband to 
you, I advise you to be a good wife to him. Don't 
let any piquant petulance or absurd jealousy make you 
uncomfortable to your husband. You know he loves 
you." 

Dws mio, yes!" cries Mazie, “with his whole 
noble heart." 

“So much that he has waited here even in danger 
for you for nearly a year. So Inezita let us make our 
courtesies to Senora Valdez, and trick Manila society 
into thinking we have no care on earth. It is our truest 
safety that none guess, especially El Corregidor, that 
you wed within forty-eight hours the man of your heart. " 

“ Santa Maria! You think Don Rafael would be 
jealous if he knew ? " laughs the lighthearted child, 
from whose dainty head most of the anxieties of this 
year have been kept by her elder sister’s self sacrific- 
ing care. 

“I know he would be," whispers Maud. “This I 
tell you not for your vanity, but for your protection. 
Don Rafael in his old veins has a nasty medieval pas- 
sion for my darling Mazie." 

“Why is a medieval passion nasty ? " pouts Sneorita 
Seventeen. 

“Because it is of the kind that failing to win you 
will see you no one else's. Beware of El Corregidor, 
Mazie." 

“Oh, I'm not frightened of him," laughs the girl. 
“When I pout at him he looks unhappy as a Don 
Quixote. By the bye, apropos of suitors, how about 
Herr Ludenbaum, who plays the role of papa to you, 
though, Dios mio ! it always seems to me he would 
like to kiss your lips and not your hand, who — " Here 


JACK CURZON. 227 

her sister’s face frightens her, so the minx pauses with 
a gasp. 

“Would he dare!” whispers Maud in a choking 
voice ; then bursts out : “ Nonsense, Herr Ludenbaum 
knows my heart, my soul is all another’s 1 And so do 
you, Mazie,” she goes on savagely. “Don’t torture 
me with suggestions that drive me crazy when I think 
of my sailor boy who is so far away.” Maud’s tones 
have an agony in them that shocks her sister. “Be 
content, dear one, I can give happiness to you. Look 
at your bridal dress, and say : ‘ Maud did this for 
me ! ’ ” And getting her little sister in her arms, 
Senorita Gordon cries over the bright face a little but 
kisses it a great deal. 

A moment after Senora Valrigo making her appear- 
ance robed in black with bright Spanish effects of 
yellow and red, and the duenna reluctantly tossing 
away her cigarette, the three trip down to their equip- 
age with its prancing ponies that awaits them in the 
courtyard, and drive off apparently in good spirits to 
a gathering of young Filipino dandies and young Fili- 
pina belles at the house of the rich Mestiza who enter- 
tains with that luxuriant prodigality that the Tropics 
bring to everything, even hospitality. 

Upon them, as they drive away along the Calzada 
San Miguel, shines the great, bright, torrid moon, cast- 
ing graceful shadows from fairydike Filipino plants 
and flowers. In its light Maud’s face looks anxious. 
The jovial exclamations coming from her father’s sanc- 
tum mingled with the hoarser tones of Herr Adolph 
Ludenbaum bring to her mind fears, perchance all the 
more potent because of their uncertainty, that ripple 
over her beautiful features. Sinking back into the 
cushions of her carriage she gazes silently on pretty 
Miss Mazie and forces from her reliant mind an uncer- 
tain terror by the contemplation of a certain love. 
Her thoughts fly over the China Sea to the PetreVs 
quarter-deck. 

A few minutes after, no one would guess the fears 
in Miss Maud’s heart did they look into her bright 
eyes as she trips in the dance to the brilliant music of 
a Filipino band in Senora Valdez’ big reception-room, 
or laughs with caballeros at the last bon mot brought 
from the gossip of the Luneta ; or even, turning her head 


228 


JACK CURZON. 


gazes, over her glistening shoulder at Don Rafael 
de Lozado as he bows before her pretty sister and 
looks rather scowlingly upon the young Filipino 
gentlemen and one or two dashing Spanish officers 
as they essay with Miss Mazie a waltz a la Madrid. 

Finally El Corregidor makes his bow and departs 
and Senorita Maud gives a sigh of relief, for her sister 
to whom she thinks the old gallant’s passion is contam- 
ination. As for herself she feels with woman’s in- 
stinct, above her, the shadowy hand always — and 
wonders will it fall, to-day, to-morrow — When ? 

It falls this night ! 

While his daughters are dancing their little feet off at 
the Filipino ball, the evening drawing on, Herr Adolph 
Ludenbaum and Capiian Silas Salem Gordon in his 
sanctum become more convivial, and El Corregidor, 
who says he has just come from Madame Valdez’ re- 
ception, dropping in upon them, the bottle passes — 
many times. Though were his eyes not sodden with 
drink the ex-sea-dog would notice that his guests make 
more the pretense of imbibing with him than the real- 
ity. Four times does he quaff the strongest whisky, 
while El Corregidor only sips his and Herr Ludenbaum 
compromises on beer, which never intoxicates a 
German. 

But as the night advances, from mirth and joviality 
Bully Gordon passes to that snarling irritable mood 
which comes from nerves destroyed ; and this mixed 
with a savage ferocity, the relics of his quarter-deck 
bullying of jack-tars and ’prentice-boys, gives him the 
temper of a fiend incarnate. 

Noting this, Don Rafael rising, bids his host good 
night. 

Though cursed for “shirking his liquor,” after one 
significant glance to Ludenbaum, and a cautiously 
whispered : “ The fool is now savage enough to fight 
the whole Spanish army,” El Corregidor passes out 
into the moonlit garden. 

Curiously enough he doesn’t leave the grounds, but 
secluded by a thicket of flowering azalias and seated 
beneath a cocoanut tree, lights his cigarette and smokes 
contemplatively though nervously. Two or three 
times he rises, steps to the entrance, glances out upon 
the quiet Calzada San Miguel, and mutters : “ They’re 


JACK CURZON. 


229 


late ! ” Then a spasm of anxiety flies over his face ; 
he gasps : “ O Santo Dios f If they come to arrest mt 
amigo Gordon after he has drunk himself insensible ? 
That would be a misfortune.” 

But Don Rafael’s eyes light up as sounds of drunken 
excitement come from the windows of Bully Gordon’s 
villa, and he hears the sea-captain cursing his ser- 
vants and making his Visaya boys run pretty lively, 
when he gives the word. 

Just about this time as he is smoking his fifth 
cigarette, El Corregidor throws it down with a sigh of 
content, for the tramp of marching men is just out- 
side the great iron gates, and a platoon of infantry of 
the line headed by a young lieutenant comes tramping 
up the pathway. He hears the officer whisper sharply : 
“Sergeant, caution the men to be quiet. Have they 
loaded ? This traitor, we are told, may make resist- 
ance.” 

“I know how to meet that, Senor Lieutenant,” 
answers the non-commissioned officer. “I have fin- 
ished up too many resisting rebels not to know how 
to deal with this one.” 

“Yes,” whispers the lieutenant, “it is said the re- 
bellious brute harbored in his house the Tagal who 
incited the Carabineros to revolt. You remember Ser- 
geant ? ” 

Sangre de Cristo, I do ! My brother fell in the 
fight with the mutineers on the Malabon Road.” 

“Then quick, seethe house is surrounded, but let 
the servants run away. This affair is to be a quiet 
one 1 ” orders the officer. 

A minute later, every Filipino boy and girl of Don 
Silas' big establishment bolts for safety as sentries 
are placed about the house and grounds. Then the 
lieutenant goes up the great stairs followed by the ser- 
geant and a half dozen of his men, and kicking open 
the big entrance doors, tramps with clanking accoutre- 
ments into the house of the ex-sea-captain who is not 
accustomed to have his quarter-deck intruded upon, 
and who is in about as pleasant a mood as liquor ever 
brought a man. . ^ 

“By Heaven, what do you want here, you damned 
Spaniard ? ” breaks out Gordon coming from his room. 

At this there is a hideous chuckle from the German 


230 


JACK CURZON. 


siuing inside, who, however, takes the precaution of 
getting behind the iron safe in which Gordon keeps 
his papers, for Mauser rifles shoot very strong and the 
partitions of a Filipino house would be as paper be- 
fore their bullets. 

“ What do I want here, you insulting brute?” cries 
the lieutenant drawing his sword. “I want you! 
You, Don Silas Gordon, are arrested by order of the 
Captain-General for assisting the rebellion ; for harbor- 
ing insurgents. Come with me 1 ” and he seizes the 
sea-dog by the collar. 

But the fist that had floored many a tough foremast 
hand and many a mutinous cock-of-the-forecastle 
answers this. With a shrieking Santa Maria f the 
lieutenant goes down under the table, floored by the 
Yankee’s fist. 

Then there are two or three hoarse execrations in 
Spanish, then two quick shots, and Bully Gordon cry- 
ing : “Murdered, by God!” staggers back into his 
room, and falls stricken with death upon his own 
hearth-stone. 

The German rises from behind the safe, a frightened 
look upon his Teutonic features, for his forethought 
has just saved his own life. A Mauser bullet has de- 
flected from the steel safe behind which Ludenbaum 
had taken refuge. 

As Herr Adolph steps towards the expatriated Yan- 
kee, from whose pale lips the blood is now flowing 
slowly, the lieutenant makes his appearance at the 
doorway. 

To him the German springs and says: “There 
is no necessity of further action by you. Lieutenant. 
This man within five minutes will be no more.” 

“Yes, I was sorry to execute my orders this way, 
but when a Rebel resists, Sergeant Pises has but one 
way with him ; and he — the prisoner struck me down 
in that brutal manner these Americano dogs have, using 
their fists like animals.” 

“ He can’t escape you. Give me five minutes with 
him before he dies, ” whispers the German. “You know 
I stand well with your Captain-General. Here is an 
order from the commander of this district ! ” 

Glancing at the paper, the lieutenant remarks : 
“Yes, I was told you might be here, and to be ex- 


JACK CURZON. 231 

tremely gracious to you, honored Senor Ludenbaum. 
Take what time you please with the dying man/’ 

“ Very well. This for your men ! ” and Adolph fills 
the lieutenant’s hand with gold. “This, also, for your- 
self ! ’’ 

He hands a purse heavy with onzas to the officer, 
who pockets it all ; and stepping out whispers to his 
sergeant : “A doubloon for the men to drink, when this 
matter is over. Guard every entrance to the grounds. 
See that no one comes in from the avenue. Dig the 
grave for the carcass in the most convenient place. 
These sudden executions are better thought of by our 
commanding officer when the public know nothing of 
them. Those are our orders.” 

So the lieutenant, lighting his cigarette, sits on the 
front veranda, and the soldiers patrol the grounds, ex- 
cept a fatigue party who are doing some hasty work 
with pick and shovel on the gravel walk just in front 
of the big stairway that leads to the dying Don Silas’ 
house. 

The scene is as placid as before. No one, though a 
few people have passed along the street, has dared 
come in to discover what commotion has produced a 
volley and a death-cry. Perchance it is because they 
see bayonets gleaming in the garden and a uniform 
seated on the veranda. 

As the lieutenant smokes, Herr Adolph Max Luden- 
baum, stepping to the dying man, lifts up Captain 
Silas’s head and mutters, a kind of gloating in his 
tones : “Does you know me } ” 

“ Yes — of course I do — old pard.” These are chok- 
ing gasps, but the ebbing blood seems to have carried 
with it the liquor from his body, and Bully Gordon is 
no more the drunken man, but simply the dying one. 

But just here Herr Ludenbaum looks astonished. 
For the old sea-captain, with that extraordinary vitality 
that, despite his years, seems to hold him to life, though 
he has been shot through and through, half staggers 
up and, seizing a leg of the table, pulls himself to a 
sitting posture. Then, that strange link between the 
spiritual and the mortal, which sometimes comes to 
the dying, giving his half glazed eyes the fires of an- 
other world, this man who, living, had discarded his 
country, seems to go back to it as he dies, and babbles 


232 JACK CURZON. 

of a New England farmhouse and driving home the 
cows from pasture. 

But the chill of coming death passing over him, he 
shudders : “ It is snowing now, I’m — I’m cold — so 
cold. ” Then his brain grows clearer. He whispers, 
his eyes turning towards the German’s pleadingly, his 
voice pathetic : “They’ve done for me, old comrade. 
Those Spanish dogs have finished me. I knew they 
would. But they won’t do much more of this sudden 
murder business.” The far-away look com'es back 
into his eyes, and he laughs in a kind of weird triumph : 
*‘By Heaven, I hear the eagle scream ! ” 

“The eagle scream stammers the German, for now 
there is a curious, scratching, rasping sound just out- 
side the house. 

“Yes, the bird of freedom! It’s coming here, but 
not in time for me. Darn me, I cut myself loose from 
her, and made myself a garlicky Spaniard, so she 
couldn’t save me. But she’s coming 1 By the Star 
Spangled Banner, the Yankee bird’s wings are flapping 
over these islands 1 Gol darn it, I hear the eagle 
scream ! ” 

Into this Ludenbaum breaks, saying: “Does you 
know me, Gordon ? ” 

“Yes,” mutters the dying man, his eyes growing 
sentient again. “I want to talk to you before the 
blood chokes me up entire. You’ve known for years, 
by my last will and testament I’ve left you the guard- 
ian of my two children.” 

“ God be praised, yes ! ” The German ^s eyes grow 
big with gloating joy. 

“ Maud is, I think, of age ; but — but Mazie will still 
be under your care. You swear to me, a dying man, 
your old business friend, your old comrade in liquor and 
other good things that make men’s hearts grow warm 
to each other, to fight for my two helpless darters’ 
lives and fortunes ; to be what you always said you 
would be to them, ‘ Papa Ludenbaum.’ Give me yer 
fist on that, my honest German friend, and I’ll — I’ll die 
as happy as any man that’s bound straight to hell.” 

And Captain Gordon holds out feebly a trembling 
hand towards his listener ; but suddenly starts, and 
his eyes, that are growing glassy, seem now to have 
a glaring frightened look in them. For the German is 


JACK CURZON. 233 

speaking to him as cruel words as ever were uttered to 
a dying father. 

‘ ‘ I will be to your daughters what you has been to 
me ! 

“What do you mean ? ” 

“ What does I mean, du hundp What does I mean ? 
Mein Gott ! I means you to remember ! Remember 
eighteen hundred and fifty-four when you shanghied 
from a sailors’ boarding-house on Long Wharf, San Fran- 
cisco, a helpless German lad, and made him your 
leedle cabin-boy. Dost remember Max — Max what you 
rope’s-ended day in and day out, night in and night 
out, until his back was burning wid coals of living fire.” 

“By the Lord,” mutters the Captain, “the sneak- 
thief, cabin-boy, that the cat couldn’t even make hon- 
est — the boy that stole from foremast hands and ship’s 
cook. By Davy Jones, I remember Thieving Max ! ” 

“You remember dot Bully Gordon, for / do ! I have 
never forgotten. Herr Goti, Himmel, Donnerwetter 1 
You didn’t guess der prosperous merchant was der 
leedle cabin-boy, whose body was striped blue and red 
mid your colt ; whose face was so frightened you 
didn’t know it was dot of der man what hated you, 
what swore vengeance on you and yours ! Does youse 
know me now .? ” 

“ God of BTeaven, I do ! ” Then he screams, “ No, 
no ! Sneak-thief Max, the coward cabin-boy — the fate 
of my darters in your hands, God of Mercy, no ! ” and 
the face of the dying sea-ruffian has a strange wistful 
terror in it, that grows into an agony as the German 
goes jeering on. 

“And you’ve made me der guardian of your chil- 
dren, eh ? ” chuckles Ludenbaum in horrid glee. “ Oh, 
dis is my time, you dying devil ! It is mein revenge. 
As you treated me, so do I treat your spawn, you 
Yankee brute ! Der mercy you gave to me, I give to 
dem. Tink of dot, mid der fiends in der odder world, 
and be happy. Oh, it is my turn now. Two beauti- 
ful girls, one tender in years, der odder, grand in lovli- 
ness like a Lorelei, mine — all mine ! To crush der 
spirits ; to hear dem beg for mercy ; to laugh at der 
broken hearts und still enjoy their tender beauties ! ” 
Despite his hate the German’s face blazes with unholy 
passion. 


234 


JACK CURZON. 


But here Ludenbaum pauses in his rhapsody of 
revenge, for the dying man's eyes conquer his, and the 
dying man's voice is speaking to him as it used to on 
the quarter deck. “You little devil that I used to whip 
out of his skin four times a watch, by Davy Jones, I 
remember ye now ! Max, my sneaking, stealing, kick- 
about cabin-boy. You dare to stand up before my 
daughter Maud? By the Lord of Heaven, she's as 
gritty as me ! She'll take the life out of your currish 
blood. She’ll protect her sister and herself . But she 
wont need to I I've got one more minute to live and 
kill you I Cabin-boy Max, your skipper's coming for 
ye ! " 

“ Gott in Himmel 

For, rising like a captain on his quarter-deck, the 
blaze of a martinet skipper in his wild eyes, is Bully 
Gordon ; and like the whipped cabin-boy of long days 
ago, flying from the brute who dominated his soul, is 
Adolph Max Ludenbaum. 

With a wild shriek of terror, the German dashes 
through the door, and screams: “ Lieutenant, save 
me ! ” cowers, and flies from his giant pursuer, who, 
staggering after him, raises his hand to strike him down 
with mighty fist. 

But even as the blow descends, the wounded skipper, 
with a muffled groan, staggers in his step, falls, and 
dies in his tracks upon his own threshold. 

A minute after Ludenbaum, with face still pale, and 
ship-boy's terror yet in his trembling limbs, falters 
out into the moonlight of the garden, and looking 
about, chuckles in a half-frightened way : Donneruri^ 
blitzen ! Dot eagle scream was der shovels scraping 
der gravel as dev dug der grave of der bully and brute, 
whose offspring shall feel mein vengeance — even as I 
felt his ! " 

To him the Corregidor comes strolling in the moon- 
light, and murmurs : Adios, Don Silas ! ” as the men 
are shoveling the earth and rearranging the gravel 
right in front of his own door over the corpse of the 
ex-American sea-dog. 

“And now for der young ladies ! ” whispers Luden- 
baum, his face aflame with a savage love. 

''Dios, we understand each other. Senorita Maud 
has been your wife for eight years, eh mi amigo ? 


JACK CURZON. 


235 


I am to swear to that,” chuckles El Corregidor. ‘‘ And 
Sefiorita Mazie? ” The Spaniard’s senile face becomes 
half adolescent with expectant passion. 

“ Verdammt V mutters the German. “ As I agreed, 
I shall exercise my authority as the child's guardian 
so that she shall be delighted to wed my dear friend 
Don Rafael Lozado to escape my rigorous rule, when 
I do so command,” and the ex-cabin-boy begins to 
look like a skipper bullying on his quarter deck. 

“Is Don Emilio Gonzalo de Monaldo in waiting.?” 
asks the Corregidor. 

“Yah, der under-secretary of der Supreme Court is 
even now in der dead man’s office drinking his wine 
and sampling his cigars,” chuckles Ludenbaum. 

“Then, we will tell the lieutenant to make all ar- 
rangements so that your charges don’t suspect, ” laughs 
Don Rafadl. 

This is done quickly and skilfully. 

And some half hour afterwards the two sitting wait- 
ing for their victims under the shades of the big cocoa- 
nut trees in the garden of the dead sea-captain’s villa, 
hear the sound of fresh young voices, as a carriage 
drawn by prancing ponies turns in from the Calzada 
San Miguel. 

Maud is laughingly crying: “ Senora Valrigo, we 
were very good girls to-night, weren’t we? No very 
naughty flirtations, eh ? ” 

” murmurs the duenna, as she lights another 
cigarette. “I do not know. After supper I went to 
sleep.” 

“Well,” says Mazie, “you won’t have much more 
trouble with me. To-morrow evening my lover will 
be by my side. The next morning I shall be Senora 
Curzon and will have all the liberties that marriage 
gives.” 

“ But don’t take them ! ” remarks Maud sternly. “You 
understand me, Mazie. I am talking to you in the 
name of our dear dead mother.” 

“Yes, God bless you,” cries the younger sister, 
“ for giving me the husband that I love ! ” 

So the two, hand in hand, trip with light feet robed in 
hosiery de soie and slippers de bal over the gravel which 
covers their father’s corpse, and run up the stairs to the 
great entrance of the house ; while El Corregidor and 


JACK CURZON. 


236 

the German, in the concealment of the shrubbery, turn 
hungry eyes upon each other and laugh in a subdued 
and hideous merriment. 


CHAPTER XXII. 

INTO THE LAND SHE DREADS. 

But a moment after to these two chuckling con- 
spirators, through the open windows of Gordon’s villa, 
come cries of amazement and alarm. 

“ They have discovered,” whispers El Corregidor. 
For the sweet voices of their two victims are ringing 
out over the shrubbery. 

Maud is saying: “This is very curious, my maid 
isn’t here.” 

“No servant in the house,” cries Senora Valrigo ; 
and Diablo I some one has smoked all my cigar- 
ettes ! ” 

Mazie is calling: “Zima! Zima ! Where are you, 
you lazy little black thing ? ” 

“I must allay their fears,” whispers Ludenbaum. 
“ My poor little doves must not be frightened just yet. 
Arrange with the coachman, he is in our pay ! ” and the 
German runs up the stairway. 

In the caida he find Senoritas Maud and Mazie looking 
for their maids, and Senora Valrigo searching for her 
cigarettes, which have been smoked for her by kindly 
Spanish soldiers ; though every man of them has been 
moved from the house which looks almost as it was 
when the young ladies left it, the few stains upon the 
hardwood floor that tell the story of their father’s 
death, are not prominent in the dim light, of half- 
turned down lamps. 

As the German enters the flames of these grow 
brighter under Maud’s deft fingers, and she looks in a 
rather amazed way at Herr Adolph, who says hur- 
riedly : “ Senorita Maud I bear a message to you 
from your father. This gentleman here,” — he brings 
quickly in from Gordon’s sanctum the languid Don 
Emilio Gonzalo de Monaldo — “is the under-secre- 
tary of the Supreme Court of Manila. An order of 


JACK CURZON. 


237 


that tribunal compelled your father to depart for 
Nueva Ecija, the same command has been issued to 
you and your sister. You will find Don Silas await- 
ing you at the banca which will take you all across the 
bay to Pampangas from which point he will journey 
up the river with you. Your father left me here to 
instruct you to join him within the hour. Justice must 
be obeyed. 

“Order of the Supreme Court of Manila!” cries 
Maud, angry, astounded and dismayed, though she has 
no guess of the horror that has taken place before her 
coming. 

“Yes, Senorita Gordon 1” remarks the Spanish offi- 
cial. “It is one commanding that you and your sister 
as witnesses immediately proceed to Nueva Ecija, the 
court of which, since the rebellion, is practically paci- 
fied, will soon be in session. It is official. It must be 
obeyed.” He displays to her a document bearing the 
seal of Spain. 

“ Not before I have made my necessary arrange- 
ments,” answers Maud. 

Oh, I shan’t be married if they take me away!” 
cries Mazie. “ Maud, stop them ! ” 

‘‘Certainly,” replies her sister ; then calls out of the 
window to their coachman who is now sleepily turn- 
ing his ponies to take them to the stable : “ Wait ! ” 

“ Where do you go ? ” asks Ludenbaum eagerly. 

“That is not your business, sir,” replies the girl, 
suspicion having come upon her ; for, as she has 
gazed out she has caught a glimpse of El Corregidor 
whispering to the driver of her carriage. 

“I am sorry, Senorita,” remarks the under-secretary 
suavely, “that I officially shall be compelled to request 
your intentions.” 

“You can't have them, Senor ! ” 

“You being now under the custody 01 the court, I 
must insist on them,” replies the languid creature, 
waving his hand officially. 

At this Herr Ludenbaum gives a grin and shrugs his 
fat shoulders deprecatingly, perfectly willing to leave 
the matter in the hands of Don Emilio, who is very 
proud of his position as an official of the potent 
Supreme Court. In addition the young man has been 
very well greased with gold for the occasion, and Maud, 


238 JACK CURZON. 

having unfortunately wounded his susceptible pride, 
Don Emilio can now be trusted to do his work lazily but 
accurately. 

“Under custody of the court.? You — you mean we 
are prisoners ! ” 

“ Prisoners ! Dios ?nio, Maud, prisoners ! ” cries Mazie 
rising affrightedly, and flying to her sister. 

And the scene, though distressing becomes one 
Ludenbaum enjoys quite well. 

The old Senora Valrigo is smoking her cigarette half 
drowsily, having found a few more in the case she 
always carries on her person. 

Mazie is half in her sister s arms, one of which is 
round her, the other extended towards the la-di-da 
official, whose Spanish eyes have lighted up admir- 
ingly at the beautiful contrast the two girls make ; one 
a child by years and education, drooping under the 
first touch of adversity ; the other fitted by trained in- 
tellect and dauntless courage to fight her own battle 
and her sister’s, and doing it valiantly, though fettered 
and crushed by this fact, potent in all Latin countries — 
that being a woman she is supposed to have no right 
to take care of herself. 

But Maud respects not Latin precedent, and cries : 
“I will protect you ! ” Her white bosom is throbbing 
as if struggling to fight its way out from the laces of 
the ball robe that drapes her noble figure, giving it 
under the subdued light of the lamps a statue-like effect ; 
one little foot advanced, two flashing eyes, two cheeks 
pale as the marble of her sculptured shoulders, two lips 
that might be those of Venus, but now are haughty as a 
Juno’s. Suddenly, as if in a spasm the lips growing 
pleading, the eyes alluring, for Miss Gordon perceives 
the mistake she has made in wounding the official’s 
extremely delicate sensibilities. 

With an enchanting smile she says : “Of course, 
Don Emilio, I acknowledge the power of the august 
tribunal you represent. As such I place myself 
in your hands. I’ll make all preparations to leave as 
you direct. As we drive down to the banca, would 
you kindly stop the carriage for a minute so that I 
• may bid an old friend good-by. You shall be pres- 
ent, honored Senor, at the interview.” 

“Oer/o, fair Senorita,” the secretary’s lips are mur- 


JACK CURZON. 


239 


muring as he bows before beauty ; when suddenly 
a sharp guttural cough from Ludenbaum recalls this 
impressionable young gentleman to his duties. Don 
Emilio hastily looks at some written memoranda, and 
murmurs : “That, I grieve to say, will be impossible 
under my instructions." 

“You refuse?" 

“I must." 

Then the Juno-like beauty comes into the girl again ; 
her eyes blaze, her arm is stretched towards him ; her 
haughty voice cries : “Since you have assumed official 
custody of me, I now command you to take me to the 
American Consul ! " 

“ By what right ? ” 

“By the right of a citizen of the United States ! " 
Dios mio ! a woman, the child of Spanish mother 
and naturalized Spanish father, born under the flag of 
Spain ? Impossible 1 " 

‘ ‘ Would you like to see my papers ? " 

“I do not care to decide what must become a ques- 
tion for the courts. At present my orders are no com- 
munication with " 

Here Don Emilio gives a little nervous CaramhaD^ 
for the girl has suddenly cried : “Come, Mazie ! " and 
picking up her skirts is half dragging her sister down 
the front steps of the house. 

Taking two languid strides to the portico the under- 
secretary calls after her: “I command you, in the 
name of the Supreme Court ! " to which Maud gives a 
little mocking laugh even as she hurries her sister 
on. 

“You will not be able to leave the grounds ! " adds 
Don Emilio. “ My aguacils are on watch." 

And Mazie looking down the pathway even as she 
reaches the last step, screams : “Maud, the gates are 
closed ! " 

The portals are being locked upon them by men, 
apparently as the under-secretary describes them. 

Loath to suffer the outrage of unequal contest where 
a woman’s struggles would be as naught against the 
strong arms of relentless men, and fearing, moreover, 
to be separated from her sister, Maud turns, and 
with a little sigh, leads Mazie back. Then bowing 
to the inevitable, in the form of the under-secretary, 


240 


JACK CURZON. 


she says : “I yiCid to force, but force only. Remem- 
ber that. Give me an hour to prepare for my depar- 
ture, and I go with you.” 

“But do not regard yourself as a prisoner de facto 
but only de jure, my dear young lady, ” murmurs the 
secretary with Spanish politeness. “After you have 
arrived at Nueva Ecija it will be the pleasure of the 
court to give you every reasonable liberty comporting 
with the desire to retain so important a witness until 
after the trial.” 

But despite Don Emilio’s words, Maud Gordon,^ an 
hour after this, in the dim light of a day that is just 
breaking, finds she is a prisoner de facto. As she 
assists Mazie, who is faltering now, into the carriage 
that awaits them, the suave-voiced under-secretary, 
with a murmured “ Pardon,” steps in beside her, and 
she notices an aguacil seat himself on the box with 
the driver. 

So it comes to pass that, Kalf an hour after this, 
before Manila is awake this early morning, the two 
young ladies robed in light pina dresses for travel- 
ing in this tropic weather, step onto the deck of a 
big sailing banca tied up to the Custom-House quay 
on the Pasig, and find their duenna is not with them. 
Senora Valrigo is very wary of Spanish justice and has 
been frightened away. 

Maud notices the boat is apparently in government 
employ, and that two or three aguacils are stationed 
about the deck of the little vessel, which almost im- 
mediately gets under way. 

In the little cabin the sisters sit, both in a kind of 
daze ; this blow has come so suddenly upon them that 
even the elder’s elastic intellect feels the shock. 

“ Santa Maria, what are they going to do with us? ” 
sighs Mazie. 

At this Maud suddenly starting up, mutters \ Madre 
dolorosa, our father ! What have they done with him ? ” 
and springs to the deck, to find the boat already off 
the lighthouse at the mouth of the Pasig, and beyond 
any attempt to attract attention from the shore. 

Even as she looks out over the water, an aguacil 
comes quickly to her and says: “You will pardon 
me, Senorita, but my orders are no communication 
with any outside parties. ” 


JACK CURZON. 


241 


Yes, but my father? I was told he would be on 
board. Where is he ? ” 

“Honored Senorita, I don’t know the location of 
your father. If he received order of the Supreme 
Court to come here, he must be coming. The words 
of the judge must be obeyed,” remarks the constable 
with Spanish simplicity between puffs of his cigarette. 

''Dios niio, why are we separated from him? ’’and 
the girl turns an agonized glance upon the aguacil, who 
replies to her deprecatingly : “ The orders of the court, 
Senorita ! The under-secretary asked me to mention 
to you that everything for your comfort ” 

“Oh yes, I can depend upon you, Senor, replies 
Maud bitterly, “for every pleasure save liberty.” 

"Santo Domingo, yes ! I am your humble servant 
Pepd Sanchez ; and my assistants Tomasso and Rincon 
are always bowing to you, ” murmurs the man as Maud, 
hearing a soft cry from the cabin, steps in to give comfort 
to her sister who is wringing her hands and sobbing : 
“Jack, mi querido. They are stealing me from him!” 

But what words can assuage the misery of an 
expectant bride torn from the arms of coming bride- 
groom. 

So the sisters sit hand in hand and know they are 
drifting from Manila and feel they are drifting from 
hope. 

Some five hours after this, in the noonday heat, the 
big banca makes landing at a little trading station in 
one of the numerous estuaries by which the Rio 
Grande de Pampanga empties its waters into the 
northern portion of the Bay of Manila. 

A dense tropical jungle surrounds a few bamboo huts 
which with the sitockade and barracks for a small garri- 
son of Spanish soldiers make the village. A few lazy 
Indians gaze languidly at the big boat as she is moored 
beside the little landing-place, this kind of craft attract- 
ing slight attention from them, as this station is chiefly 
used for the transfer of cargoes from canoes or lighter 
draught bancas that come down the river to the larger 
craft that traverse the waters of the bay. But the 
insurrection has destroyed trade, and no boats save the 
banca and a large up-river canoe are at the embar- 
cadero. 

Here the young ladies are transferred by the atten- 
16 


242 


JACK CURZON. 


tive aguacil Pepe to the lighter draught craft, that has 
in its stern a small bamboo cabin thatched with nipa, 
the forward part of the boat being open and occupied 
by the Indians who navigate it and a small squad of 
Spanish soldiers under a sergeant for the protection of 
the party from any bands of rebels that have wandered 
from Aguinaldo who is now laying down his arms in 
Manila and accepting Spanish amnesty. 

The girls’ luggage, which is not extensive, is trans- 
ferred also. 

Then paddled by its Indian crew the canoe-like banca 
glides quickly up the current and Maud sees open 
before her a land that seems novel, after her long 
absence from it. The great reaches of the stream, 
whose low banks are covered by the brilliant vegeta- 
tion of a tropic swamp, spread out before her lighted 
by a dazzling sun that seems to make each leaf more 
green, each flower more lustrous, each bright plumed 
shrieking bird more brilliant. 

But the girl gives little heed to this. Her thoughts 
are centered on one thing : “ How shall I best meet 
my adventure — for the safety of my sister and myself ? ” 

The day runs on ; and the canoe having traveled 
rapidly is now in that great grassy region which in the 
wet season becomes a swamp and extends from the 
river to Lake Candava, whose enormous meres covered 
with myriads of duck and water-fowl attract the Tagal 
hunters. 

Journeying on, they pass a few bancas bound down 
stream, some ruined villages, and one burnt church, a 
relic of the late insurrection, and tie up for the night to 
the palm trees of a little station. 

Here the Indian c'rew having eaten their scanty sup- 
per of plantains and rice, the aguacil and the sergeant 
promptly lock them up in a strong shed, so that they 
may be certain of their men in the morning, for they 
have worked them very hard this day under the broil- 
ing sun. 

Then after a slight meal, for neither of them are very 
hungry, Maud and Mazie wrapping themselves in 
mosquito netting to keep off the buzzing pests that 
make night a purgatory, lie down in the little cabin 
and try to sleep, though their anxieties prevent much 
slumber, for Mazie is crying and wringing her hands, 


JACK CURZON. 


243 


and muttering : “To-morrow was to have been my 
wedding day. Jack, come to me ! Maud, why don’t 
you help me ! ” her words breaking her sister’s heart, 
who lies gazing over the waters of the silent river to 
its banks where myriads of fire-flies make the dense 
foliage of the tropics a fairy garden in which flop lazily 
about a number of huge bats. Beyond are the great 
swamps filled with myriads of mosquitoes, each shallow 
pool alive with leeches, varied now and then with a 
crocodile or slow wriggling anaconda. 

Thinking of this the girl murmurs : “ Helpless ! ” 
and a crowd of chattering monkeys in a neighboring 
grove of mangos seem to mock her with their jibes. 

Succumbing at last to exhaustion the unhappy girl, 
is awakened by Mazie shuddering: Miser icordia^ 
Maud, we must fly ! My wedding morning ! My Jack 
is bereft ! ” 

“Fly.?” whispers her sister, starting up and looking 
over the jungle in its silence. “Impossible! Not 
yet, Mazie, but still I’ll give you to the man I promised. 
Trust your sister. For God’s sake don’t make my lot 
harder than it is 1 ” 

With this new day comes another fear upon Maud 
Gordon. They have taken their breakfast. The crew 
of snarling Indians have picked up their paddles. 
Already the mound of the extinct volcano of Arayat 
which lies to the west of the river is behind them. 
They are leaving the rice swamps and entering the 
higher country. The deserted railway to Dagupan 
that has been half destroyed by the war has been 
passed. 

Noting this the girl turns suddenly to Pepe the aguacil 
and mutters : “You are not taking us to Isidro.” 

“No, Senorita.” 

“Why not.? It is the capital of the province.” 

“My orders.” 

“ Then to Jaen .? ” 

“No, Senorita.” 

“Then to where .? ” 

“To Carranglan.” 

“What.? Right under the mountains; that little 
town ? The court of the province isn’t held there.” 

“That I do not know. It may be held there, if the 
judge so decrees. ” 


244 


JACK CURZON. 


Sanios! ” cries the girl, “you are bearing me away 
from every chance of friendship or of aid. In San 
Isidro there are some old friends of my father’s. In 
Jaen likewise ; but away in the fastnesses of the 
mountains right under the great Caraballo, where 
Herr Ludenbaum has his coffee plantation, where I am 
more alone and helpless than in the middle of the 
ocean. I pray you hot there.” 

There is a despairing anguish in the girl’s voice that 
touches the aguacil, who murmurs : “ Be of good cheer. 
Santa Maria, while under my care no harm shall come 
to you. Have we not troops to guard you?” 

So, Senorita Gordon finds herself paddled up the river 
beyond Jaen this very night. They tie up at a little 
village at the foot of some rapids near where the river 
Baliuag comes down from the great grass terrace 
that is bounded by the mountain peaks of the Main 
Caraballo. 

The next morning proceeding on their way, the 
country grows more magnificent in its wildness and 
its boldness. Long ago they have left the low paddy 
fields. They are now leaving the sugar cane. They 
are reaching the pampas where the wild buffalo roam. 
Beyond them up in the mountain ranges will be found' 
a few scattered coffee plantations and some tobacco 
fields, though here both plants grow wild, such is their 
luxi^iance. 

So poling up dashing rapids and paddling along quiet 
reaches they make their way to the head of navigation 
on this stream, where the cliffs covered with ferns and 
brilliant wild flowers, mixed with bamboo thickets and 
sometimes cocoanuts and wild bananas, come down 
to the waters of the river. Here at a little hamlet the 
aguacil demands from the tribunal or local post house, 
conveyance for the party, which under the law must 
be accorded to all travelers, but is very quickly sup- 
plied to those journeying with military escort. 

Then in some ten carts all drawn by slow moving 
carabaos, the native term for buffalos, they make dusty 
procession on springless carts which move creakingly 
over half destroyed and wholly unrepaired roads, grad- 
ually climbing to the foothills of the great mountains. 

Upon the second day of this jolting, bone-shaking 
journey, their progress being very tedious, the Igor- 


JACK CURZON. 


245 


rote boys who drive for them being very dilatory and 
very surly, Maud, with Mazie seated beside her, finds 
the two carabaos which draw her cart halted in front 
of the tribunal of Carranglan. 

She looks up at the great mountains that rise above 
her and almost entomb her. Glancing down the valley 
through which rushes a little mountain torrent, she 
sees, terrace on terrace below her, patches of great forest 
trees mingled with a matted jungle oi wild cofee bushes, 
vines, flowers and dwarf bananas, whose sea of green is 
topped by an occasional buri-palm, till in the far blue 
distance her eye reaches the great grass lands that 
in their unexplored haunts are the home of fierce wild 
buffalo, cousins of the patient beasts that have borne 
her to this place of despair. 

For as such Maud Gordon now regards this quiet 
mountain pueblo of cottages thatched with nipa palm 
or cogon grass and a few stone houses, the largest 
" being the Casa Real, the residence of the alcaldk. 
Just across this little valley on the hillside is the 
presidio, stockaded by posts of teak wood and con- 
taining the stone barracks of the local garrison, a com- 
pany of savage voluntarioSy some of whom are slouch- 
ing about the street. In a little vale below the pueblo 
are the ruins of a Dominican monastery. It is sur- 
rounded by gardens in which nature has resisted the 
fire that destroyed but a year ago, from torch applied 
by the insurgents, the home of monks and friars. 

Beyond this Maud sees their old unoccupied planta- 
tion house with the great tobacco lands, her mother’s 
dower, the ruin of her family. For first the priests 
claimed them, and then transferred their claim to the 
officials of the Spanish Crown. 

Some two miles away over a ridge, she can dimly 
discern the tops of the huts of the coolies of Herr Lu- 
denbaum’s plantation. Noting these, the thought of the 
German brings her danger very near to her. The very 
grandeur of the nature that is about her, means she is 
far from aid and succor, in a half barbarous place, 
where her family were once dominant, but now are 
friendless. 

She looks at the Spanish troops who have dismounted 
from their carts. She* sees coming towards her the 
gubernadorcillo, his black Eton-jacket over his white 


JACK CURZON. 


246 

shirt worn outside his trousers, a high hat upon his 
head, a gold-mounted cane in his hand, the sign of his 
authority. She knows she is a prisoner in the land 
she dreads ! 


CHAPTER XXIII. 

THE KITE OF THE CHINAMAN. 

The young lady’s prognostications are unfortunately 
correct. The gubernadorcillo, after a few words with 
aguacil Pepe, steps towards the cart, and though he 
bows humbly, remarks with an air of authority : 
“Why do you delay, Senoritas .? The alcalde is wait- 
ing for you. Let me assist you down so that you may 
come with me.” 

So gathering up their pina skirts to keep them from 
the dust of the huge wheels of the cart, Maud and 
Mazie descend like two fluttering birds into the snare 
of the fowler. 

In a few moments the girls are in the presence of 
the alcald^-guhernador , and are rather curtly told by 
this official that he has orders to keep them very tight 
till his Honor, Don Ulah Pico, the judge of the prov- 
ince, has tirne to hold his court. 

Then in the course of about half an hour Maud and 
her sister find themselves quartered in a little stone 
house with bamboo balcony, of which they occupy, 
after the invariable custom, the second story. This is 
reached by bamboo steps and is surrounded by a gar- 
den which, though uncultivated, has been made by 
nature very beautiful. The cocoanut, the banana and 
feathery bamboos, aided by a big launan tree, in which 
hato haio pigeons and cockatoos roost, produce a pleas- 
ant shade that is adorned by growing orchids of won- 
drous colors and made fruitful by some orange trees, 
limes, tamarinds and mangosteen. All this is perched 
upon a little hillside that permits the young ladies a 
view of the dusty main street of the pueblo some hun- 
dred yards below them. 

But its beauties are defaced, to these defenceless 
ones, by a high stockade of unhewn timber and a gate 


JACK CURZON. 


247 


of heavy dogon-bars which is secured by a strong chain 
and padlock with massive clicking key. Besides, poor 
little Mazie shudders as she sees sentries placed about 
this stockade and before the gate. 

But even this is swept from the maidens’ minds after 
their baggage, which has been searched, is brought up 
by a couple of Tuingani coolies. With them strides 
into their apartment a stern-faced matron with body 
of sturdy, heavy build, and face of sharp eyes and 
hawk’s nose so common among the Basque peasantry. 

Though she curtsies to them, the woman says : 
“ Senoritas, by the alcaldiis orders you are under my 
charge. I am to see your pretty tongues wag to no 
one ! ” At this the two girls simply looking at her in 
astonishment, she announces : “I am Concha Dolgo, 
once under-matron of the Bilibid, now engaged to 
take good care of you, my doves.” 

“The Carcel Publica de Manila P ” cries Maud, her 
eyes indignant, her face haughty. 

“ The Bilibid prison!” screams Mazie, her sweet 
lips fluttering, her dark eyes filling with tears of rage 
and shame. 

^'Cierio! I have had under me before this other 
Rebel girls,” says the matron grimly, and would per- 
haps hear some saucy rejoinder from the indignant 
little beauty, did not Maud, whose American common 
sense domniates her courage, remark: “Under the 
instructions we are, I presume, your prisoners, 
but I warn you, Senora, keep your eyes upon us from 
a distance.” 

^^Caramba, that I will ! ” says the woman half jeer- 
higly, adding in grim significance : “Though I’d take 
other methods with you, my haughty chicks, were not 
my instructions to handle you like humming-birds.” 

So from now on. Concha Dolgo keeps eyes upon her 
pretty charges. The young ladies are assigned to the 
two little back rooms of the cottage, from which there 
is no exit save through the larger front apartment, in 
which at night Senora Dolgo swdngs her hammock. 

Even as they sit in the garden and try to amuse 
themselves with some old plays of Lope de Vega, a 
“History of the Saints,” and a volume of Cervantes’ 
novels that has been sent in to them from the alcalde's, 
from w^hich place their meals, very good ones for the 


248 


JACK CURZON. 


country, three times a day are brought ; seated on the 
veranda, smoking her cigarette. Matron Concha has 
careful supervision of her wards. 

Then, bearing no hardship save that of seclusion, 
the two imprisoned beauties pass many a weary 
day that is only broken by listening to the bells of 
the little chapel of the village ringing matins, mass 
and vespers, and distant glimpse of an occasional religi- 
ous procession with image of the Virgin and lighted can- 
dles and playing violin, which tramps the dusty main 
street ; likewise one or two funerals that pass by with 
brass band playing ; their rude biers drawn by white 
ponies and guided by drivers in stove-pipe hats and 
followed by crowds of half-drunken natives, who 
always end their sorrow over the dead by a carouse. 

In this soul-crushing monotony Miss Gordon finds 
all chance of communicating with the man she loves 
annihilated, all hope of outside aid divorced from 
her. 

For the first month the girl had perchance expected 
some communication from the English lover of her 
young sister. For the next two, she had hoped to see 
her own affianced coming riding up the main street of 
the little pueblo. 

But now Good Friday having past and these hopes 
having at last been put out of her heart with many 
sighs ; quite naturally Senorita Maud commences to 
look forward with eagerness to the trial to which she 
and her sister have been brought ostensibly as wit- 
nesses but really, she knows, for some ulterior purpose, 
the very uncertainty of which adds to her anxiety. 

In addition Mazie begins to droop. Lightness leaves 
her step, and Maud at night is driven frantic by her 
sister’s tears, who is sobbing : “ He will believe I am 
unfaithful to him. Jack ! My Jack ! ” To this she 
adds with almost childish unreason : Why don't 

you keep your promise ? ” 

Mazie’s anguish spurs Maud to make exertion in the 
limited field she finds before her; for the sentries at 
the gate are still vigilant. 

With astute diplomacy she tries to make the alcald'e 
her friend when he comes once a week to ask as to her 
health. She even attempts to beguile the stern dragon 
who sits on the veranda overlooking her prisoners day 


JACK CURZON. 


249 


by day, evening by evening. Likewise she has a 
pleasant smile and kindly word for the sentries that 
patrol in front ot the gate ; though she has little chance 
of this, for Matron Dolgo permits little converse between 
her charges and any one. 

But this fortunately brings Senorita Maud under the 
notice of the officer commanding the local garrison. 

Captain Don Roberto Chaco, comandante of the 
corps of volu7itarioSy garrisoning this district, comes 
stalking on the scene, ferocious as a military ghost 
arisen from the sixteenth century. 

At the time of Maud s arrival this officer had been 
across the mountains to the north, even as far as Bay- 
ombon in Nueva Viscaya Province, pursuing some 
Igorrotes and Gaddanes, fierce hill-tribes, who had 
come down from their fastnesses for plunder, thinking 
the Spanish troops still have upon their hands the in- 
surgent hoards that have roamed over this province 
firing many a monastery,, burning many a priest and 
sacking many a church. 

Some months after the advent of the young ladies, 
returning from his duty, which he has done with a 
heavy and remorseless hand, bringing some half-dozen 
Igorrote, Gaddane and Negrito prisoners with him, 
whom he hangs upon some palm trees down the val- 
ley as a suggestion to other marauders. Captain Chaco, 
like the efficient officer that he is, has gone to examin- 
ing the details of his garrison. 

In making his rounds he chances to hear from the 
sergeant of the guard that the prisoners, for as such 
Chaco regards them, have been trying bright eyes and 
kind words upon the soldiers who see they are cut off 
from the outside world. 

Therefore one morning Captain Roberto, always 
alert for duty, calling for Matron Dolgo to unlock the 
gate, steps in to the young ladies as they are reading 
under the shade of the launan tree, and remarks in 
stern military tones: “My prisoners, I hear you at- 
tempt conversation with my sentries as they walk 
their posts at the stockade. But have a heed ! I warn 
you, the next man that turns his head to your pretty 
voices or bright eyes I shoot before your gate. Will 
that stop your babbling tongues condemning my gal- 
lant fellows, who love all pretty girls as the devil loves 


250 JACK CURZON. 

sin, to a firing party? Aho, carambaf” he chuckles, 

I see it will." 

For at this atrocious threat both girls have sprung 
up shuddering, and Mazie has screamed : “ Shoot a 
man because he turns his head to my voice ? You’re 
a murderer ! " 

“No, Mazie,’’ mutters Maud, laying a hand upon 
her indignant sisters arm, and knowing abuse is not 
the best way to turn this martinet from his dread pur- 
pose, “Captain Chaco is only an officer inflexible in 
duty." Then turning to him and forcing herself to 
calmness, she continues : “Your — your gallant fellows 
are safe. My sister and myself shall never speak to 
one of them again." 

Gracias y Senorita," mutters this military Draco, and 
catching sight of the blue eyes that blaze with an in- 
dignation they cannot conceal, he adds half-apologeti- 
cally : “I thought it best you should know, before 
any of my poor fellows came to harm." 

At this the bright eyes grow softer, the girl mur- 
murs : “Thank you for warning me in time." 

And Captain Chaco having doffed his sombrero and 
strode away, his saber clanking against his high boots 
with their jingling spurs, Mazie whispers: “How 
could you be polite to that awful man ?" 

“Because," answers Maud under her breath, a sud- 
den inspiration coming to her, “if I guess right, this 
Captain Roberto may be a rock against which Herr 
Ludenbaum and El Corregidor may dash themselves 
in vain. From his very disposition he will be as 
firm a friend as he is stern as an enemy. He is the 
only power here, strong enough to smack the court in 
the face if he likes." Here she gives a curious little 
giggle: “Aha, he has condemned himself to death. 
See, the inflexible Chaco is turning to get a glance 
of us." 

Then raising up her voice, Maud cries in sweet en- 
treaty : “Just a word with you!" and gathering up 
her light skirts, she trips towards the military auto- 
crat whose dark eyes for one moment flash as they 
look upon the graces of this lovely creature, who 
comes bounding towards him with fairy feet and ex- 
quisite ankles glinting in the sunlight, and a face 
radiant, yet pleading, to make her first petition unto him. 


JACK CURZON. 251 

“I — I have a favor to ask you, Caballero,''' murmurs 
Maud. 

Humph ! " the martinet gazes upon her sus- 
piciously. 

“ Only a very little one.” 

“What is it, Senorita.?’’ 

“I have finished the first volume of Cervantes’ 
‘Jealous Estremaduran,’ ” she holds up the book. “ I 
can’t leave my prison,” her voice is pathetic here. 
“Could you not ask for me from the alcalde the second 
part, Don Capitan ? ” 

“Por Dios, is that all 1 I’ll do so ! ” 

The disciplinarian strides out of the gate between 
his saluting sentries, as Maud, gazing after him, cogi- 
tates shrewdly : “I’ll get him used to granting little 
favors ; then, perhaps, some day when I want a 
greater one, Don Roberto may from very force of 
habit give me what I pray for.” 

A moment after the girl rather laughs to herself as 
their Cerberus, Dolgo, locking the gate after the de- 
parting martinet, remarks sharply : “ That’s a man 
after my own heart. Hung up six rebels the day he 
came to town. If he and I had but to deal with you 
I’d have longer siestas and less fear of you flitting, 
Senorita Nose-in-the-air.” 

Chaco is a man of his word ! 

That evening, as Maud is seated in the garden play- 
ing a little accompaniment on the guitar to her voice, 
she finds him standing beside her, and muttering : “I 
have brought the book, fair Senorita.’’ 

“ Oh, how can I thank you ? ” 

“ By not stopping your pretty song.” 

“I am at your service, Don Capitan," and Maud 
sings to this stern gentleman a siren’s ditty which, 
emphasized by alluring eyes and white fingers stray- 
ing over the guitar strings, and arms of snow and 
ivory shoulders that glisten under the moon’s soft 
light through her robe of pina tissue, makes this 
young lady a Circe to the ferocious soldier as he listens 
to her sweet voice. 

For actuated almost by an instinct, Maud turns 
upon him the blaze of her charms, the luster of her 
mind, and bewilders this rough cavalier who having 
thought of little but duty during the last two years, 


252 


JACK CURZON. 


now finds it pleasant to bask in the smiles of a 
bright coquettish face, and imagine himself once more 
doffing his sombrero upon the Luneta to the ladies of 
fashion and civilization. 

Consequently Don Roberto comes often to see his 
fair captive, though this is dissented to by the prison 
matron, who does not care to see her charges speak to 
anyone, and in consequence keeps guard over their 
interviews till the rough and ready soldier damns Con- 
cha Dolgo with many an awful oath under his black 
mustachios. 

In ChacOj Miss Gordon, to her astonishment, dis- 
covers a sincere devotee of the Church as well as true 
Spanish patriot. His vigor against the insurgents has 
been such that he has been called at barracks, the little 
Weyler, his military methods having the same cold, 
calm remorselessness as those of that Captain-General 
under whom he had served and whose strong hand had 
once made all Filipinos shudder, as he afterwards made 
all Cubans. 

Bloodthirsty, indomitable, caring naught for the 
opinion of the world, and only for the praise of his su- 
perior officers, having no friends at home, being native 
born, though of Spanish race, Chaco has received little 
promotion, a thing which perhaps embitters him against 
the powers that be, but has not destroyed a ferocious 
patriotism which demands the death of all insurgents, 
high or low. 

This phase of his character is gradually revealed to 
his fair prisoner, as he acquires the habit of strolling 
during the early evening after guard-mount into the 
little garden where the Senoritas sit under the eye of 
Matron Dolgo, who smokes her cigarette upon the 
balcony of the cottage. 

Dios mio” he mutters to Senorita Maud, when I 
look at that burnt convent and think how the devils 
having larded them with cocoanut-oil, hung up 
Padres Juan, Pablo and Roderigo, and made them part 
of the burning pile, I, though they lay down their 
arms, am still the enemy to the death of every rebel 
scoundrel. Cruz de Cristo, amnesty is not proclaimed 
yet hy me I 

“Ay, my fiery captain,” suggests the young lady, 
“but if word came to your superiors it might inter- 


JACK CURZON. 


253 


fere with the promotion I am told, Don Basilio Augus- 
tin, our new Captain-General has promised you.’' 

“But little news passes from here to Manila or even 
San Isidro,” grins the fiery little Spaniard, stroking his 
mustache. “ None, if I do not wish it ! ” he adds, asav- 
age sternness in his voice that makes Maud start. 
“ Dost think a courier could get alive out of that can- 
on,” he points down the valley, “with report that 
would injure or destroy me. Dios mio, I studied war 
under Weyler.” 

But perchance noting some hope in his captive’s face 
he mutters; “Of course I bow to the mandate of the 
Supreme Court and keep my two brilliant witnesses 
for the coming trial. I am told the judge, Don Ulah 
Lawbooks — I forget his other name — ” laughs the 
comandante, “is coming here with quite a suite of 
aguacils; also El Corregidor, to see that justice is done 
in the trial that will take place here, the local witnesses 
being more convenient, for those big tobacco lands that 
should make you very rich if you get them — which I 
think you won’t.” 

“ But my father, what of him ? ” asks the girl. 

“Ah, Don Silas ! I have not heard of him since last 
year, when, I am sorry to state, your father had a bad 
name among the officials as being a kind of half rebel. 
But you are good Church girls and true Spaniards I 
hope, both of you, Senoritas, though I hear under the 
displeasure of the court, not being willing witnesses.” 

“ Oh, yes, we obey the laws. Besides women have 
little else to do except to make men happy,” replies 
Maud, and favors the local military dictator with a 
glance which might allure St. Anthony himself 

But now from the veranda this moonlight evening 
comes the stern voice of Matron Dolgo. It says ; 
“My doves, \A6.Don CapUan good-night. It is time 
for you to retire. ” 

“You see we obey the law,” murmurs Maud archly, 
extending a white hand in adieu, and rather happy to 
note her visitor favors the matron on the balcony with 
a terrific scowl, and a muttered Carrajo ! ” under his 
breath. 

Probably she might bring a contest between them 
now, but she is too proud to whisper to this man who 
is beginning to think of her with very ardent mind, 


254 


JACK CURZON. 


that each night she and her sister suffer the indignity 
of being put under lock and key, so she only murmurs 
to him : *'Adws, Caballero T’ 

“You have given me a pleasant half hour. I kiss 
your hand, Senorita,” murmurs the martial Hidalgo. 
“ Likewise yours, Senorita Inez.” A stiff black briary 
mustache is pressed upon the delicate fingers held out 
to him, though his lips linger longest over Maud’s. 

Bowing, the captain with clanking saber takes his 
departure, the memory of the white hand he has kissed 
making him hold up a haughty Spanish nose at the 
blandishments of some Tagal beauties who look at him 
from their nipa cottages as the comandante passes, and 
play the guitar and give him entreating glances. 

Thus it comes to pass that Captain Chaco has often 
to superintend personally the mounting of guard over 
the little cottage and always gets a bright glance and 
pleasant smile, and sometimes an interview from his 
charming captive that makes his step light and military 
air quite jaunty. Gradually into his mind comes a hope 
that one day this young lady who seems to make sun- 
shine for him, even when he rides under the dark shades 
of the eternal forests of teak and ironwood and dogon, 
may give herself to him with all. her beauty and her 
portion of the great tobacco lands that he to himself 
with Spanish thrift now mutters : “Shall yet be 
hers ! ” 

Therefore he becomes complacent as far as his duty 
permits, to this young lady who has got into the habit 
of asking slight favors, such as his bringing her a little 
music iromihe gubernadorctllo , who plays the flute, or 
a book from the scant libraries of the cur a or the 
alcalde. 

But Maud soon has a greater boon to ask of Roberto 
Chaco, one that has been suggested to her by a very 
curious incident. 

Early one day, the morning breeze blowing fresh 
down the valley, Mazie, who is lazily killing time em- 
broidering a panuelo which is to cover her fair shoulders, 
suddenly tosses it away and calls: “A kite! Look, 
Maud, a kite ! ” 

Such is the dead monotony that is crushing their 
youthful spirits that both young ladies spring up and 
get excited over a thing every Filipina girl has seen a 


JACK CURZON. 


255 


thousand times, a Chinaman, at his national pastime, 
flying one of those kites that represent so ingeniously 
birds, insects or dragons. 

This one is an immense bat some eight feet high, 
with fiery eyes and black flapping wings, and is flown 
quite scientifically upon the hillside near them, not 
much over fifty yards from the line of the stockade 
which encloses them, the wind blowing in such a way 
that at times when the bat’s wings are extended it 
almost faces the girls. 

As they watch its movements, Maud suddenly, 
clutches her sister’s arm, and mutters : “I think I see 
letters on it ! ” She looks again ; and quickly drags 
her sister through the matted tangle of wild flowers, 
vines and shrubbery almost to the stockade, as near 
as possible to the flying thing that excites them. Here 
they put sharp young eyes upon the flying bat. 

“A — a communication ! ” Mazie gasps. 

“ Look! Friends, friends at last 1 ” whispers Maud. 
For, as the wings of the bat lextend themselves before 
her, she deciphers in rude characters in English, that 
no one here in all this town can read, save herself and 
her sister : “Ask for a maid 1 ” 

The moment she has read it she commands : 
“Come away ; act as usual ; pick up your embroidery. 
I’ll try and read my book lest they suspect.” 

Sitting at their work in the shade of the launan 
tree, neither of the girls can help turning their eyes 
surreptitiously upon the kite which has brought the 
first hint to them, they are not entirely forgotten by 
the outside world. It is flown for about an hour by 
a Chinese coolie, and every time its wings expand, 
the spark of hope burns higher in Maud’s breast. 


CHAPTER XXIV. 

CHACO, THE PATRIOT. 

“Ask for a maid?” cogitates Miss Gordon all this 
day ; and turning her bright eyes upon Matron Dolgo, 
Maud knows she won’t get one. Suddenly into her 
mind flies the thought, ‘ ‘ Chaco may grant my request. ” 


256 


JACK CURZON. 


Therefore this very evening after she has charmed 
the military martinet’s senses, Senorita Maud thinks 
she may dare to put up her subtle plea. First giving 
Chaco some little description of the inconveniences 
that' are upon her because she has no servant, the 
alluring young lady murmurs: “Could I not have 
some Tagal or Negrita girl to wait upon me and my 
sister? We have sufficient money to pay the slight 
dole that will be required.” 

‘ ‘ A muchacha ? Cierto ! ” remarks Don Roberto. 

Why not?” 

But Matron Dolgo interposes an objection, and 
says : “ Under orders of the Supreme Court no attend- 
ants or communication whatsoever are to be allowed 
my charges.” 

Caramba, the Supreme Court! Would you make 
our judges barbarians, woman ? The young ladies 
shall have the attendance to which they are accus- 
tomed ! ” mutters the captain. 

“Oh, thank you, dear caballero !’* cries Maud with 
thankful eyes and grateful voice. 

And Chaco thinks her tone means so much, that 
being a man of quick action, the next morning he 
brings up some half-dozen native girls, one or two 
Tagals of lithe limbs, an Ilocos maid, supple and yel- 
low, and three little black Negrita nymphs for her 
selection. 

Looking over these, Maud can scarce repress a cry 
of joy ; draped in a coarse jusi chemisette from which 
her black arms and shoulders peep like carved jet, her 
short skirt of bright red and green displaying legs and 
feet of ebony made shiny by cocoanut oil, is little 
Zima, Mazie’s Manila maid, a sly look of warning in 
the whites of her big eyes. 

Struggling with a sudden hope and blessing God 
that Mazie, whose joy would surely betray her, is still in 
her room. Miss Gordon after making inquiries from the 
other girls to veil her motive, remarks: “I choose 
this one 1 ” and puts her hand on Zima’s shoulder as 
she asks : “What is your name, black child? ” 

“Zima I ” says the girl, who has a quick wit in her 
minute body ! “And what is yours, Senorita? ” 

“I am your mistress now. Dona Maud,” commands 
Gordon’s daughter. “Go up to my chamber ! There 


JACK CURZON. 


257 


you will find my sister, Senorita Mazie, who will 
instruct you as to your duties. I hope you will be 
obedient. " 

“Ah, caramha! These Negrita muchachas some- 
times need training. If the wench is surly, send her 
down to our quarters. My corporal understands the 
proper use of the quirta,” chuckles Chaco grimly. 

“ Santos, I could never do that ! ” shudders Senorita 
Gordon, for poor little Zima is trembling at the men- 
tion of this stern discipline, and Maud fears the Negrita 
may in her terror betray their secret. 

But Zima has too bright a mind for this mistake, 
and though her feet are trembling, runs up the bamboo 
stairs into the house, where, if Matron Dolgo had 
quick ears enough, she would hear a cry of joy from 
Senorita Mazie, and even the sound of a kiss greeting 
this souvenir of former days. 

But there is not much of this ; the black girl puts an 
ebony finger upon her red lips and mutters warningly : 
* ‘ Silencio, dear mistress ! '' 

Just at present, however, the matron has some other 
business on her hands. 

Maud, even as she is thanking Chaco for his kindness 
to her, feels a hot sharp breath of anger on her neck. 
Concha Dolgo with uplifted finger beards the fiery little 
Spanish captain, saying to his face : “I disagree with 
you entirely, Don Roberto Chaco. The prisoners 
under my care shall have no maid to go running 
through the streets bearing their messages to God 
knows whom. I forbid it ! '' 

Then Maud for the first time sees in its glory, the 
demon in this military gentleman she has been play- 
ing with. Chaco who is but five feet seven inches 
high, seems to grow six feet tall. His eyes that were 
black and flashing now become red as coals of fire. 
He knocks the ashes from his cigar coolly, and look- 
ing at the woman with gaze that seems to petrify her, 
murmurs: “I, Don Roberto Chaco, comandante of 
this presidio, am master here. Disobey me,>^and Til 
shoot you, madam. I swear it, Cruz de Cristo f It is 
my military law. I am responsible for these young 
ladies' safety— but not to you. They shall have twenty 
Indian wenches to run about for them if I wish. Tell 
His Honor, the alcladS, if he doesn't like what I say, 

17 


JACK CURZON. 


258 

to come to me. But he’ll not come,” Chaco grins. 
“ He’s been there before ! ” To this he adds hoarsely ; 
“Remember what I say. To forget Chaco’s orders 
means death. Ask the trees out there ! ” he points 
down the ravine to some tall palms over which 
vultures circle. Then gravely taking the woman with 
his strong fingers by her hawk’s nose, Don Roberto 
leads her to the bamboo steps and doffing his sombrero 
ceremoniously, commands: “Into the house, hag!” 
And in a jiffy, stern Matron Dolgo with bowed head 
and frightened mien bolts from beneath his Gorgon 
glance. 

Turning, the military autocrat fronts Miss Gordon. 
Her lovely figure is draped with a white robe of soft 
pina tissues, that twines about and displays each 
beauty line, her face radiant with gratitude, her hand 
extended in graceful recognition of his service. Backed 
by some big green plantain leaves, surrounded by 
flowers of brilliant hues, perched above her dainty 
head a paraquette of rainbow plumage, some orchids 
of rarest shapes and tints dangling from a tree-fern, 
floating about her in the soft morning breeze, she 
makes a picture that might set any man on fire. 

Suddenly a sunny smile wipes the scars of battle out 
of the Spanish soldier’s bronzed face. With one quick 
step he is beside Senorita Gordon. He seizes Maud’s 
white fingers and whispers : “I am so pleased to be 
of service to you,” then mutters sorrowfully: “but I 
must see you no more. Some day my love,” his eyes 
are flaming now, “might make me forget a soldier’s 
duty. When you are no more a prisoner, send for me 
and I will wed you,” 

“O, Dios I'’ gasps the girl at this quick attack. 

“You understand me ! ” he breaks in again, for Maud 
has drawn back from him shuddering with a terror 
born of the intensity of this man’s passion. “I mean 
an honest love for you. I’ll give you a better name 
than that of Gordon, who, the alcaldi tells me, has been 
a rebel to my dear Spain I So long as you are my 
prisoner I dare see you no more, mi querida, mi alma^ 
7iina de mis ojos I But mi Belita after you are free 
send for Don Roberto Chaco, and he’ll make you his 
car a esposa, Cruz de Cristo I ” 

This outburst of flaming passion has come sudden 


JACK CURZON. 


259 


and strong as an earthquake ! The girl feels upon her 
hand lips that burn, and her slight waist gets one 
savage squeeze that almost makes her cry from pain 
as Don Roberto Chaco striding from her, reaches the 
gate of the garden. Here he raises his hat, and says : 
“Remember — I mean what I say, girl. — It is Chaco's 
oath I ” 

Gazing after him, Miss Gordon, her fair limbs trem- 
bling, meditates that perchance she has dropped from 
the frying-pan into the fire, in stimulating this electric 
barbarian's blood with glances that beguile, and words 
that she knows now have put a hope into him she 
dares scarce think about. 

But Mazie breaks in upon her, giggling : “Quick! 
Old crabstick Dolgo's out of the way. She's swearing 
to herself at the back of the house. Now's our chance 
to hear from Zima. ” 

A second after, in the seclusion of a plantain thicket, 
the little Negrita girl gives them some news that for a 
moment turns Senorita Gordon's mind from Chaco’s 
passion. 

“My dear mistress,’’ Zima whispers to Mazie, “we 
followed you from Manila." 

“We ? Who ? ” Maud's breath scarce leaves her lips. 

“ Ata, your Tagal boy, and the Chinese peddler. Ah 
Khy." 

“Ah Khy? Who is he?" 

“The son of Hen Chick." 

“Oh, I remember. That snappy, vindictive, demon 
Chinese boy," mutters Maud. 

‘'Yes, the one whose tail I used to play pranks 
with," whispers Mazie. 

But her sister goes on impressively to the Negrita : 
“You are sure Ah Khy is our friend ? '’ 

“Yes, lady, but more the enemy of old Ludenbaum, 
your German papa, who has journeyed to Isidro with 
El Corregidor." 

“ Santos, I expected that ! Friends and enemies are 
both here; enemies strong, friends weak. Why did 
Ata Tonga bring you ? " , 

“ So I could talk to you for him. He is known by 
Captain Chaco as a Katipunan. Ata's life wouldn't be 
worth a cocoanut were he captured. Look under the 
trees over which the vultures fly : they show Chaco’s 


i 


260 JACK CURZON. 

mercy to a rebel Filipino. But I can wander out and 
can bear words to the Tagal, who has sworn byCam- 
bunian to save you. He has made the Chinaman 
take oath with the head cut off a game fowl, such as 
these foolish creatures swear by, to save you.’" 

At these words Miss Gordon’s face becomes radiant 
for the first time in three months. Before, her 
smiles had been forced ones to make a Spanish captain 
think his presence was not distasteful to her. The 
brilliance in her eyes is now spontaneous as the light of 
rising sun. But suddenly her face grows pallid ; the 
Negrita is telling awful news. Fortunately it comes 
gradually. 

To Mazie’s half petulant question : “Why did you 
and all the other servants run away before we returned 
to the villa that night at San Miguel ? ” Zima answers : 
“The soldiers ! ” 

“The soldiers,” whispers Maud, “ were at my father’s 
house ? ” 

Yes, I heard the lieutenant speak of seizing: Don 
Silas.” 

Madre mia 

“ He said your father was to be taken for having 
harbored the Rebel who made the Carabineros revolt ! ” 

“And then ! ” Maud’s hand is on her breast. 

“ Even as I fled, I heard your father’s voice swearing 
and angry, then sounds of fight and shots of guns.” 

“ Shots ? ’’ screams Mazie. 

And dread coming on these deserted girls, Maud 
cries : ''Dios mio, were he not a prisoner or dead he 
would, ere this, have been with us, his children ! ” 
Then she questions hurriedly : “Do you know more of 
my father’s fate .? ” 

“Yes, but it will make your eyes rain tears like a 
mountain storm.” 

“Tears! Don’t you see I am crying now. You 
must tell me. Anything but suspense,” implores Mazie. 

“ Ata Tonga says Don Silas is dead.” 

“Dead! How does he know ? ” 

“ He smelt Don Silas’s grave under the gravel walk 
to your house in San Miguel.” 

" Madre dolorosa I Mazie, our feet have trod upon 
our father’s corpse ! ” shudders Maud, as with a long 
sigh her sister droops upon her neck. 


JACK CURZON. 


261 


But the sharp call of their keeper intrudes upon their 
gfrief : “ Senoritas, where are you?” 

They are turning to the summons, but the Negrita, 
with hand upon Mazie’s arm, says suddenly : “I forgot 
to tell you. Remember the Chinese pedler. Buy 
things from him. Listen to his words. Ah Khy is 
cunning as an old man-monkey.” 

Senoritas, answer me ! ” cries the savage voice of 
Matron Dolgo from the veranda. “Come in sight of 
me, my doves, or I’ll lock you up all this day — and 
perhaps longer ! ” And the two responding to this, the 
stern-visaged Spanish woman notes a strange sadness 
in her charges' haughty voices. 

Though not daring to wear mourning, as this would 
indicate they had received communication from the 
outside world, each sister, upon her white wrist, 
ties a plain black band, in memory of Bully Gordon, 
who had always been to them, save on that one eve- 
ning when filled with liquor, a kindly tiger with 
claws that were always cushioned by his fireside. 
The hand that had thrashed mutinous foremast-hands 
and flogged Cabin-boy Max nigh unto death, had been 
to them always a gentle and protecting one. 

So a day or two passes in sad solitude, Senorita 
Gordon thanking Heaven that Captain Roberto Chaco 
keeps away from her ; for Maud has seen a spirit in 
this man that has frightened her at the familiar she has 
raised up to aid her. 

At first she had thought to play a Semiramis role with 
this military gentleman, and so meet the power of the 
law by the brute force of the army. But now she knows 
this man though he may defend her, will for it 
claim reward. She thinks of Cleopatra, who made 
Antony throw a world away for hcf bright eyes, and a 
Judith, who took Holofernes's head. Then suddenly a 
spasm of agony comes into her face. “ What did these 
women have to sacrifice to gain their power ? ” and 
her hand clutches the photograph of Phil Marston 
which still lies upon her white bosom. 

But the noticeable absence of the only man of whom 
Concha Dolgo holds an awe, brings new misery to her 
charges. The matron even jeers Miss Gordon with 
savage tongue: “Now that your lover, who made 
you think yourself above the law, comes no more to 


262 


JACK CURZON. 


listen to your tale of woe, Til make you sing a different 
tune, my haughty minx ! ” 

To this Senorita Gordon gives slight heed, till some 
day or two after she and her sister, being seated 
in the little garden in the cool of the evening, the set- 
ting sun still giving them a pleasant light, are aston- 
ished to see their keeper unlock the barred front gate 
and order the sentry to signal to a passing huckster 
that she would examine his goods. 

With a little gasp, Maud sees it is a Chinese pedler 
who has made at a distance such wondrous display of 
bright-colored kerchiefs that the eyes of the severe 
Spanish woman have been caught by them. 

Thinking to deck her austere features she has sum- 
moned the huckster ; and at the gate, for she permits no 
further entry, she is examining the goods. The Chi- 
nese pedler is jabbering to her in the expressive patois 
of his nation, and his goods are so beautifully cheap 
that Concha Dolgo opens her big eyes at his prices and 
chuckles with Basque parsimony at the bargains she is 
getting. 

“Some earthquake shock has made this coolie a be- 
sotted fool,” grins the matron. “Does he not know 
that jusi cloth like this is worth twice what he asks for 
it ! And these earrings, true Visaya pearls ! By every 
saint, the dolt is charging no more for them than if 
they were glass beads to trade with savages.” 

Then, even as she is bargaining, the matron com- 
mands sternly : ' ‘ Stand back, Senoritas ! ’’ 

For at this sight both Maud and Mazie have come 
towards her. 

“Can’t we look at the pretty things as well as 
you?” asks the younger girl defiantly. “We have 
a little money. We can buy pina scarfs as well as 
you.” 

“I will buy them for you, my pert dove,” says 
Concha grimly. 

“Oh thank you,” remarks Maud diplomatically, 
“and please accept a present of this one from us.” 

Thus they all get to bargaining, the Chinaman 
displaying many pretty things at prices which would 
make Senorita Gordon open her bright eyes did not she 
divine this jabbering creature is Ah Khy, and guess his 
reason for the cheapness of his goods. 


JACK CURZON. 263 

So, after a little, the matron puts her hand into her 
pocket where she usually carries her purse. 

Not finding it, she raises her voice and cries : 

Zima ! ” and being answered by theNegrita girl from 
the upper story of the house, she calls: “Find my 
money ! It is in my pouch that is secreted in the 
lizard s hole in the ceiling in the corner of my room. ” 

To this, after a moment, come shrill cries of alarm 
and little Zima is yelling : “ Senora Dolgo, the pouch 
is not in the lizard’s hole. Aqui, pronto I Someone 
has stolen it. Ladrones ! Thieves ! ” 

Commanding, “Come with me !” the matron, with 
feet made quick with parsimonious fear, runs along the 
gravel path and flies up the bamboo ladder, her face 
pale with agony at loss of money. 

But her charges dontioWow her ! 

The Chinaman is whispering hurriedly : “Little Zima 
sharp as a rat ! You sabe me. Ah Khy ! come from 
Ata, theTagal man. Speak quick ! Ata dare not come. 
Chaco know his face and will hang him up by his feet 
to die. But we have written evidence which, given to 
Chaco, who is the cruelest patriot on earth, would get 
Ludenbaum shot like a dog when he comes here." 

‘ ‘ What has Ludenbaum done ? " asks the girl sharply. 

“Imported and delivered arms to Aguinaldo ! " 
answers the Chinaman. “Dutchy be here in a week, 
then look out for squalls ! If you can use the evidence, 
which we keep, as it is written and might be taken 
from you, send Zima to us. She knows where to 
find us." 

To this Maud answers only with a significant nod, 
fearing their keeper may overhear, though her eyes 
blaze, for the coolie is winking roguishly and remarking 
significantly : “We have been looking at Chaco and 
you in the moonlight from a distance. Which is the 
masher, which the mashee .? " 

Fortunately Mazie, filled with a girl’s anxiety for her 
absent lover, stops this by whispering hurriedly : “ Do 

you know aught of the Englishman ? ’’ and in her 
eagerness, breaking into pidgen English, jabbers ; 
“ You sabe Jackie Curzon .? ’’ 

“Yes, me sabe Jackie Curzon," grins Ah Khy. 
“Him damn fool ! " 

“Oh, 


264 


JACK CURZON. 


“ Him chump ! ” 

‘ ‘ Santissima / ” 

“ Him your lover ! ” 

Mi Madre ! ” Mazie hides her blushing head. 

“Him was to come with Ata and myself to save 
you/' remarks the Chinaman contemplatively; “but 
Jack hasn’t got much sand. Him run away in English 
war vessel ! Your lover him damn big coward ! ” 

“You lie, you jabbering yellow-faced imp ! ” cries 
Mazie savagely, and boxes the Chinaman’s ears sharp 
as the crack of a bamboo umbrella. 

Suddenly this is broken in upon by the deep voice 
of the girl’s stern monitress. “Why did you strike the 
pedler, Senorita ? ” 

“Why — why ” gasps the maiden, staying her 

vicious hand with a start. 

“I insist on knowing. Answer at once 1 ” 

“Why — because he was trying to cheat me in the 
price of this pina handkerchief, ” cries Mazie desperately. 
“ The saucy rogue asked twenty silver pesos for the 
stuff when it isn’t worth four.” 

At this Ah Khy grins horribly, but flies into Chinese 
jabber like an enraged monkey, shaking his fist at the 
little lady as he gathers up his goods and takes his 
money with him, for Senora Dolgo, having found her 
purse, has paid him. 

As he disappears, the matron locking the gate after 
him, turns fiery eyes upon her charges. “Why did 
you not come with me? ” she says sharply ; then com- 
mands : “Into the house! As for that little black 
devil Zima who said she couldn’t find my purse ” 

She dashes up the bamboo ladder, and a moment 
after the girls, as they proceed slowly to the cottage, 
hear Zima’s cries. She is shrieking under Dolgo’s 
strong hand : Senora, mercy ! How could I tell 

which lizard’s hole it was ? There are ten chameleons 
in the roof.” 

''Dios mio!' gasps Mazie, “the brute is beating 
Zima ! ” 

But Maud bursts into a jeering laugh, for Zima, 
escaping from Dolgo’s arm, has flown upon the bal- 
cony and swung herself far out. Her Negrita toes, ex- 
pert as a monkey’s tail, have clutched a liano dangling 
from the launan tree. Quick as a flash, even as the pur- 


JACK CURZON. 


265 

suing Concha flies at her, the imp, swinging herself out 
into space, climbs up by her agile toes to the safety of 
a high branch, and still hanging head downwards, 
makes faces like an ape, grimacing at punishment 
below. 

Just here catching Mazie's giggle, for the black girl 
is performing like a ring-tailed monkey upon the tree, 
Dolgo turns eyes upon her captives and cries savagely ; 
“ Up that bamboo ladder quick, prisoners! I’ll have 
no disobedience. You shall be locked up very tightly 
for a day or two, my pets.” 

At this Mazie puts her little nose saucily into the 
air, and Senorita Maud sweeps, a picture of languid 
but haughty grace, into her room, yet clutches her 
hands defiantly as she hears bolts drawn and key 
turned upon her. 

But all the time she is thinking of the news the 
Chinaman has brought. She knows Curzon is no 
coward, and whispers to herself: “He went on an 
English warship^^or what ? ” Then her hand flies to 
her heart as her sweet lips gives answer : “To tell my 
lover I Phil will be here. I shall see his gallant face 
again. Phil will save. Dios de mi alma ! My 

— my sailor boy I ” 

But suddenly she starts as if electrified, and mutters 
in frightened voice : “Chaco ! I have but to appeal to 
him and the persecution of my keeper ends. I have 
but to summon him and Ludenbaum may suffer from 
this fiery patriot. Summon him? Dios mio, dare I ever 
summon him ? Chaco would surely demand his price 
and take it — ay, and take it/ Santissima, if Phil and 
Chaco ever meet ! ” 

And growing pale at fear of one, and red at love of 
the other, for the first time in all these months this girl 
lets her passion break out into the air, and throws her- 
self, sobbing as if her heart would break, upon the 
hard wood pallet they call her bed. 

“Aha! You don’t like being locked up, do you, 
my sweet one,” chuckles Mother Dolgo grimly as she 
hears this plaint. “Wait till the judge gets hold of you. 
Caramha, he’ll pluck the feathers out of your white skin, 
my pretty dove ! ” 


266 


JACK CURZON. 


CHAPTER XXV. 

WEDDED BY DECREE. 

Scarce a week after this, comes to the village Don 
Ulah Pico, the judge of the province, in considerable 
state, accompanied by his aguacils and clerks, likewise 
one or two notaries, solicitors, pica-pleiios, procura- 
dores and other judicial hangers-on, all hoping to get 
a little picking out of these big tobacco lands. 

With him journeys El Corregidor and his friend 
Herr Ludenbaum, the German merchant. 

So, due proclamation being made, and various legal 
forms that give solemnity to Spanish injustice being 
gone through, the case which is entitled : Don Silas 
Salem Gordon^ Executor of the Estate of Luisa Areles 
Gordon^ versus the Brotherhood of St. Domingo is called 
for trial in the tribunal, a stone building which is used 
for the municipal gatherings of the little pueblo. Like 
most government buildings in the interior of Luzon, it 
has a roof of nipa and the meeting-place on the second 
story is fronted by a bamboo balcony with stairway 
leading to it. 

It is a bright April day, the siesta hour has finished, the 
sun has passed its heat. After the usual preliminaries 
which have occupied the morning hours of justice, the 
name of Dona Maud Ysabel Gordon being called at the 
door of the tribunal, that young lady is ushered up the 
steps to the veranda from which she steps into the 
little court-room, a place of rough unfinished walls and 
bare hardwood floor, upon which is placed a little 
platform for the judge, with the only armchair in the 
town upon it ; below this is the clerk’s seat and table, 
and a promiscuous lot of rocking-chairs and bamboo 
settees for the lawyers, though the all-pervading game 
cock, who wanders in through open doors and flies in 
through open windows ac? during the trial claims 
at his convenience all furniture to roost upon. 

Under the charge of Matron Dolgo, Miss Gordon 
has been brought here to give her testimony, her sister 


JACK CURZON. 


267 


being left carefully under guard at the little cottage. 
His Honor Don Ulah Pico affecting to fear some col- 
lusion between the two fair witnesses. 

Passing in review before a few Indian children who 
gaze from across the dusty road at the Castila lady, 
the beautiful girl is received almost at the portals of 
injustice, with Spanish suavity and German effusive- 
ness ; Herr Ludenbaum shaking her by the hand and 
half attempting to put papa’s kiss upon her brow, 
whispering: “ Wie geht's! So happy to see mein 
leedle fraulein. You, I hope, have been well in this 
expansive, though retired, spot.” 

As he speaks, he is searching in the lovely face 
for an expression that will show the proud spirit of 
Maud Gordon has been sufficiently broken by her 
confinement to accept the fate he is about to offer 
her. In this Herr Max is wofully disappointed ; as the 
bearing of the girl though anxious, is as full of courage 
as it is of beauty ; a kind of radiant nervous light flick- 
ering in her bright blue eyes. 

Whatever her danger, she will soon be face to face 
with it ! 

The Corregidor, in his suave way, salutes the wit- 
ness’s pretty fingers, and even Judge Don Ulah Pico 
beams kindly upon his victim and hopes she has en- 
joyed her residence at Carranglan. The lawyers also 
make quite an ado over this young lady ; though 
Maud, as she looks about the court, sees but very few 
faces she knows in this, the home of her childhood, 
for most of the country people do not dare to be 
present at judicial proceedings fearing summonses as 
witnesses, collection of taxes, and other misfortunes 
that go with the law. 

Still she notes in the rear of the roona among the 
few peasant and Indian lookers-on a Chinese pedler. 
Sitting behind these, a kindly glance of salutation upon 
his clear-cut face, is El Capitan Chaco who, divested 
of his sword in deference to judicial form, has stalked 
in like a medieval shadow to view a suit that now 
interests him greatly ; for this Spanish warrior of bright 
eyes and bristling black mustachios, has hopes that 
the Senorita just about to step upon the witness stand 
may become in all her beauty his cara esposa, and 
that some day when she wins her suit — which he has 


268 


JACK CURZON. 


made up his mind she shall — bring her portion of this 
goodly heritage to him as her dower. 

But Spanish law has this day some wild surprises 
for Captain Chaco as well as the young lady upon 
whom he gazes, who stands robed in white, for Miss 
Gordon doesn’t dare to show, by wearing the trappings 
of mourning, that she has already received news of her 
father’s death, save by the little black band upon her 
wrist in tribute to his memory. 

Then being called to the witness stand ; looking like 
a dream of beauty, a nervous excitement giving vivacity 
and radiance to her bright eyes, Maud Gordon taking 
the Bible in her hand and pressing the cross upon its 
cover to her lips, makes hostage to justice, and takes 
her oath, wondering what questions will be put to her 
on matters that must have happened when she was a 
child, her dear mother having died not long after Mazie’s 
birth. 

But her answer to the very first question of the 
procurador produces a little sensation in the court, 
though curiously enough the judge, who is a pompous 
gentleman of many words and Latin phrases and en- 
tirely the tool of the powers above him, doesn’t seem 
surprised. 

“Your name, Senorita?” asks the lawyer for the 
crown officers. 

“ Maud Ysabel Gordon, daughter of the late — ” the 
word has slipped from her — “Silas Salem Gordon.” 

“You suggest your father is dead.? ” 

“I have heard so.” Here Maud notes El Corregidor 
and Ludenbaum cast eyes upon each other astonished 
at her knowledge. 

“You are a subject of Spain ? ” asks the procurador 
in careless commonplace. 

The answer that comes startles this legal gentleman. 
“I am a citizen of the United States of America!” 
says the witness in clear impressive voice. 

“What?” gasps the attorney. 

“These papers,” Maud produces the documents, 
“prove that I became by naturalization a citizen of 
the United States of America in the year eighteen 
hundred and ninety-six. Here is my certificate of 
citizenship signed by Judge Norton Noble of Topeka, 
Kansas. It is certified to by a notary public of that 


JACK CURZON. 


269 

place, likewise that my name is upon the voting list 
of the first precinct of the second ward of that city. 
In addition I have a certification that I voted at the 
municipal election held in that place. As a citizen of 
the United States I give my evidence ! 

The girl utters this in clear impressive dominant 
voice, and gazing about defiant, notes that the lawyers 
opposed to her father’s claim have apparently been 
warned to expect this ; but that Capitan Roberto Chaco 
who hates America with Spanish military hate, has an 
awful frown upon his clear cut face and his hand has 
abstractedly sought his absent sword. 

“Is there an interpreter here who can translate from 
the American language this written rigmarole into the 
Spanish tongue ? ” asks the judge testily. 

None being brought forward or found, Maud Gordon 
says simply: “Your Honor, I will translate to you. 
You can swear me as interpreter if you like.” 

“That’s unnecessary,” interrupts the attorney for 
Spain. “ In the first place, these papers can’t be legal. 
No woman can transfer her citizenship. In the second 
place, I have documents here to prove that this lady 
was incapable of becoming of her own volition a citi- 
zen of the United States of America, or any other 
foreign country.” 

‘ ‘ Incapable ! How ? ” asks the witness turning fiery 
eyes upon him. 

“Maud Ysabel Gordon was at the time, eighteen 
hundred and ninety-six, and had already been for six 
years previous thereto, a wife by the holy ceremony 
of the Church, espoused and wedded to Herr Adolph 
Max Ludenbaum ! ” 

“ My God ! ” This is a faint breath of shuddering 
horror from the proclaimed bride. 

“Said Ludenbaum being a resident of this province 
at the time of the ceremony,” goes on the attorney in 
legal monotone, “which was performed in this district 
and bears the signature of the Cura of this Parish, of 
Carranglan.” 

But suddenly interrupting this, the lawyer cries : 
“Look to the witness!” for Senorita Gordon has 
reeled and staggered from the stand and sank upon a 
chair, her face white as the chalk-washed walls of the 
building. 


270 


JACK CURZON. 


But Maud Gordon though stricken by this light- 
ning bolt, has too brave a spirit for it to leave her 
body defenseless in this, the almost supreme moment 
of her life — the greater one came afterwards. 

She staggers back to the witness stand and gasps : 

Under — under my oath — that is false ! No vows of 
marriage from my lips to any man have ever passed 
them, least of all to Adolph Max Ludenbaum.” 

‘ ‘ Then the Senorita’s legal status must be determined 
before the witness gives any further evidence,” ordains 
the judge from the bench. 

And now to the fluttering horror and blushing tor- 
ment of this agonized girl, the trial becomes, not the 
trial of the titulio real of lands in Nueva Ecija, but the 
trial of the fact whether Senorita Maud Ysabel Gordon 
on the fourteenth day of September, eighteen hundred 
and ninety, became, by ceremony of the Church, the 
wife of Adolph Max Ludenbaum. 

Upon this, evidence is taken, the Cura's certificate 
being read, and his signature admitted to be correct, 
which is true, as the document is a genuine one. For 
Herr Ludenbaum was too brilliant to be caught nap- 
ping in such a little thing, and had obtained an old 
certificate of marriage from the records of the province 
in the custody of El Corregidor. With the names in it 
carefully changed to Ludenbaum’s and that of Maud 
Ysabel Gordon, the old timeworn paper seems genuine 
and true. 

“ This certificate is a lie. I swear it by the hope of 
God ! ” mutters Maud, looking in dazed horror at the 
document. 

Then let Fra Roderigo Anselmo, the Cura who 
gave it, be summoned,” remarks the judge suavely. 
“This is his parish.” 

“The Cura is dead ! ” answers the clerk of the court. 

Upon this, breaks in the hoarse voice of Roberto 
Chaco. ‘ ‘ Poor Fra Roderigo Anselmo was larded with 
cocoanut oil and burned in his ruined convent over a 
year ago by an insurgent band under Del Pila. He 
can give no evidence. Put me on the witness stand. 
Honored Judge, I can tell you if this lying affair is 
genuine ; which I think it isn’t ! ” cries the captain, 
thinking he is doing the half swooning beauty that he 
loves a favor. 


JACK CURZON. 


271 


But he is not ! 

For El Corregidor acting as officer of the court, 
suggests: “ Probably you, Captain Chaco, can testify 
to his signature as you knew the dear old Padre.” 

** Dios mio, I can ! Let me look at the absurd thing 
that the senorita denies so truly,” mutters Roberto 
savagely. 

But on the witness stand, after he has taken his oath 
very reverently, his face grows white as he glances at 
the paper, and from it glares at Maud, thinking she has 
deceived him into loving her, even when bride to an- 
other. 

Then, being a devout follower of the Church, and as 
such hating perjury, the Captain gives his evidence to 
the despairing horror of the girl, who is now bewil- 
dered with astonishment : “ I know this is Fra Roderigo 
Anselmo’s signature. I was acquainted with that 
devout man and his handwriting very well. The 
Padre would certify to no falsehood. He was a true 
priest of the Church.” Having said this in curt military 
tones, though his tongue at times seems to choke him, 
the medieval soldier kisses the cross on the certificate 
of marriage, and, bowing to the judge, leaves the 
witness stand. 

In two strides he is beside Maud Gordon, and utter- 
ing, in his simple soldier way, words that strike her 
with despair : “ Dona Ludenbaijm ” 

“ No, no ! ” she starts up, screaming at the title. 

“ Here are your marriage lines,” he says in ringing 
voice, ‘ ‘ keep them to show you are an honest woman ! ” 
then whispers in her ear : “Display them to prevent 
honest men having aught to do with you.” 

With this, tossing the paper before the clerk, an awful 
scowl upon his scarred face and a brain driven nigh to 
madness by the thought that this beauty he had hoped 
would soon be his, has been and is the property of an- 
other man, this sixteenth century martial Spanish lover 
strides from the court-room, his heavy cavalry boots 
sounding very heavy on the hard wood steps. 

Gazing at Don Roberto’s bowed head Maud knows 
her last friend has left her ; then shudders as with the 
ague as more testimony that she is wife to Ludenbaum 
is piled upon her, till she almost thinks herself crazy 
and doubts her own memory. 


272 


JACK CURZON 


Don Rafael Lozado being called as official of the 
province, testifies not only that this document is taken 
properly from fhe records, but that he was present at 
the ceremony, and signed his name as witness to it 
eight years ago. 

Which evidence is curiously true, yet wholly a lie. 
Don Rafael did see the marriage of a certain Eulalie 
Vicento and a certain Ricardo Marcho, whose names 
have been erased. “You can see. Your Honor,” he 
remarks suavely, “that the document is very old, the 
ink upon the signature of equal age, and the whole a 
prima facie honest record of the province.” 

Under such evidence as this, Maud’s face grows 
paler, paler, till it is white as that of a dead woman’s, 
and she gasps in broken sentences : “I demand to be 
placed upon the witness-stand to again deny that I am 
the wife of any man ! ” then suddenly cries : “Four- 
teenth of September eighteen ninety ! I remember 
that day — I ” 

“Aha,” murmurs the attorney, “you recollect at 
last, Senora, that you became the wife of the gentle- 
man named in the document.” 

“No, I remember ” 

“What?” 

“Nothing!” murmurs the girl. But she has recol- 
lected that on that very day she became a member of 
the Katipunan. “ I only remember that I never in the 
presence of the Church, or in the presence of any man, 
or in the presence of that liar,” her finger points to El 
Corregidor, “promised to be the spouse of anyone, 
much less of that deVil there who claims me for his 
wife.” She is gazing at Herr Ludenbaum. 

But even as she looks at the German’s face and 
catches his eyes that meet hers with a mocking smile of 
triumph and gloating glance of legal possession ; even 
as she speaks the word “wifef over the girl’s face, neck 
and shoulders flies a blush red as the fires of the Inferno. 

“Is this all you have to say. Dona Ludenbaum?” 

“ My God ! Don’t call me that ! ” 

“ You have nothing more to say ? ” 

“Yes, I have. No decree of court, this or any other, 
can make me wife to any man ! ” 

At this implied insult to his power the judge shakes 
his head reprovingly, and murmurs : “ The court 


JACK CURZON. 


273 


simply decrees that you, Dona Ludenbaum, cannot 
give your evidence in the case as Senorita Gordon, 
which you are not. Still it would add its authority to 
that of Mother Church, who has already proclaimed you 
spouse by your own vows to your husband Adolph 
Max Ludenbaum. As such the court now decrees you 
to him, giving him the rights and authority of a hus- 
band over you, who have apparently for eight years 
forgotten your vows or disregarded them. As such 
this tribunal grants him possession of your property 
and power over your person to hold as his wife accord- 
ing to Spanish custom.” 

‘ ‘ Dios mio, rather doom me to death ! " moans the 
bride. 

At this outburst, most of the spectators look as- 
tounded, and Judge Pico remarks sagely : “ It is not so 
bad a thing for a girl to have a good husband. I have 
a daughter ; I would I could condemn her to so 
pleasant a fate. She’d also much prefer that, to being 
a nun.” 

Then he goes cheerfully on: “Oh no, we respect 
beauty too much to place any higher penalty upon you 
than that of being a good and loving wife to a gentle- 
man we have no doubt will be a good husband to you, 
and as such has shown his consideration for you by 
respecting your tender years when you became his 
bride. ” 

His Honor glances at the girl’s face, that is red as fire 
and continues facetiously : “ A self-control that, look- 
ing at your marvelous loveliness, my child, makes me 
think Herr Ludenbaum nigh unto a monk ! ” 

At this there is a little subdued snicker and one or 
two guffaws by attendant procuradors, pica-pleitos, 
clerks and hangers-on ; a judge’s jokes are always 
laughed at. 

“Do you mean officially,” asks the girl in low and 
choking voice, “to brand me as that man’s wife on 
those lying papers .? ” 

‘ ‘ Such is your legal standing in this case ! ” remarks 
His Honor suavely. “Go to your husband, Dona 
Ludenbaum.” 

A moment after some lawyers whispering a few 
words to him, Don Ulah Pico of the unsullied ermine 
announces ; “No further evidence can be received in 
18 


274 


JACK CURZON. 


this action, which has been terminated by the death of 
the late Don Silas Salem Gordon, of which 1 have just 
been legally informed ; and that Herr Adolph Max Lu- 
denbaum is now suing as the executor of the estate and 
guardian of the minor daughter, for your rights Dona 
Ysabel Ludenbaum as his wife and your sister's as his 
ward/' 

But Dona Ludenbaum answers nothing to this ; she 
has been stricken down by the awful decree of marriage. 

In a kind of half daze, half swoon. Matron Dolgo 
having to bring water and fan her face, Maud hears 
the attorney for her putative husband make staterrient 
to the court that his client as executor of the estate of 
the late Don Silas Salem Gordon and as husband of the 
eldest daughter of the late Senora Luisa Areles Gordon, 
deceased, of Senorita Mazie Inez, a minor, who is not 
present in court, but will be soon brought in, has made 
compromise with the attorneys of the Spanish Crown, 
and for certain considerations will receive deed to the 
estate for the two young ladies in question. 

All this with legal phrasings takes some little time, 
and seems almost a nightmare to the new-made bride, 
who is so stung with chagrin and tormented by shame 
she can’t look human being in the face, and gazes in a 
dazed way at a big rooster outside the window , pluming 
himself on a neighboring lime tree ; for Ludenbaum, 
to complete his signature of the papers, is now sol- 
emnly swearing before the notary that he is the hus- 
band of the despairing girl both by Church forms as 
well as court decree. 

He is also explaining with brutal cunning that the 
marriage was not announced nor consummated at its 
date, as the bride feared her father’s opposition, she 
being of such tender years ; that now her repugnance 
to acknowledging the union is because she became 
enamored with some Naval officer in America. This 
lying oath and dastard insinuation wracks the puta- 
tive bride with rage so that the room spins round be- 
fore her burning eyes. 

And now, as if she were in a trance, Maud thinks she 
sees into this panjandrum of misery and despair, mixed 
with lawyer’s terms and Latin axioms, dominated now 
and then by the crowing of game cocks in the dusty air 
outside, a tall German lady of gaunt figure and strong 


JACK CURZON. 


275 


face with spectacled eyes and thin, bloodless, cold, dog- 
matic lips, clad in a prim but European robe, lead in 
Mazie, who seems almost a child in simple frock of jusi 
cloth with her brown hair braided into a pigtail down 
her back and tied with white ribbons in adolescent 
style. 

To her floats the German woman’s voice saying 
sharply to her sister : “Answer His Honor’s questions, 
child ! ” 

To these Mazie seems to reply in an embarrassed 
way, there being indignant tears in her bright eyes as 
she greets her childish pigtail, and juvenile costume 
with a blush, and listens to Herr Ludenbaum introduce 
to the court the German woman as Frau Amelia Smoltz, 
a lady of high learning he has brought with great ex- 
pense from Batavia, Java, to complete the education 
of his young ward. 

Also, Maud seems to hear Mazie cry to Adolph : 
“You shall not take me from my sister!” and the 
German woman answers sternly: “Your guardian, 
child, has now full charge of you ! ” 

A moment later, with a start. Miss Gordon seems to 
awake from the half syncope into which the joy of be- 
ing made so suddenly a bride has thrown her. Matron 
Dolgo is tapping her on the shoulder and saying, “ His 
Honor has announced that the litigation being finished 
you are transferred from control of the court to that 
of your husband, Dona Ludenbaum.” She staggers to 
her feet and unheeding the bows of the judge and the law- 
yers about him, falters to the door of the court-room. 

Looking out she sees a barouche drawn by two 
sturdy ponies moving away along the dusty road, in it 
the German woman and her sister, who seems to be half 
disputing, half struggling with the governante. 

Maud is turning helplessly back ; but pauses, chanc- 
ing to hear words coming from the lower story under 
the bamboo balcony on which she stands. 

Ludenbaum and El Corregidor are in consultation. 
The girl’s light footsteps have not been heard by these 
gentlemen whose voices appear excited, yet triumphant. 

Don Rafael is saying: “I charge you, my dear 
friend, forget not your promise to me.” 

“Don’t doubt me, Don Rafael, I shall remember 
your fidelity in this case. Mein Gotti Didn't dot mar- 


JACK CURZON. 


276 

riage evidence and decree $mash all Yankee citizenship 
out of her. 

“You can thank me for that,” murmurs El Corregi- 
dor. “ I give you a bride ; now it is your turn to do 
the same for me.” 

“Of course, I will ! You can bet your Spanish head 
within the month Frau Smoltz will have made things 
so unpleasant for that little vixen — I beg your pardon, 
little beauty — struggling with her there, that Fraulein 
Mazie will be glad to marry the devil himself to get 
away from her. Consider her your betrothed now. I 
as guardian give you the privilege. Within der month 
der leedle fraulein weds you, mein esteemed frendt.” 

“A-a-ah, amigo de mi alma!'' cries Don Rafael with 
Latin enthusiasm, and seizing the German, kisses his 
two fat cheeks. 

With this the daze in the girl's mind seems to clear 
like mist before the sun. Maud knows the plot of 
which she is the victim. She has been brought to these 
wilds ostensibly as a witness, to be adjudged the wife 
of Ludenbaum and given helpless to him. Likewise 
her sister is turned over to his authority to be forced to 
wed El Corregidor. 

As he comes up the steps from interview with Don 
Rafael Lozado, Ludenbaum, humming a merry air, 
chancing to raise his eyes, catches glimpse of two of 
the prettiest feet and ankles in the world. Above 
them, drooping against the bamboo railing which her 
white hands clutch desperately, is a girl whose cheeks 
are one second pale as marble, the next red as the 
crimson skies of sunset, with two bright stars for eyes 
that shine through mists of unshed tears. But blush- 
ing or pallid she is beautiful enough to make him 
ready to lose his soul to be her spouse. 

This vision of loveliness is his legal bride awaiting 
him under the nipa roof of the balcony outside the 
court-room. 

For a moment the German measures his victim with 
his eye. Her attitude is emotional and Latin in its 
abandon, as if all hope had left her. He thinks quite 
merrily : “ Sapristi, I’ll soon crush the gaudy wings 
of this rebellious butterfly that has been given by the 
law into my grip.” 

They are quite alone ; judge, lawyers and nearly all 


JACK CURZON. 


277 

inside, now that the court has adjourned, have got to 
discussing eagerly, almost savagely, the chances of 
the various game-cocks that compete in a grand series 
of combats given in Don Ulah Pico's honor this even- 
ing by the alcaldL Their noise in proclaiming the 
merits of putts, pulas and ialisain chanticleers, drown 
the low whispered tones of the interview upon the 
portico. 

Ladr on, you’re taking my sister from me ! ” cries 
Maud, an agony in her voice. 

“My duty as her guardian,” answers the German, 
the calm of victory in his voice, as he knocks off the 
ashes from his cigar. 

Madre de Dios I That woman is going to be cruel 
to Mazie ! ” 

“You can determine dat for yourself.” 

“How?” 

“By coming into mein house.” 

“Think how that would compromise me now! ” 

“Compromise you ? ” guffaws the German. Don- 
nerwetter, a wife compromised by going to a husband’s 
home, a husband’s love.” 

“ And to my face you dare use that title ? ” 

Mein Himmel I I only echoes der decree of der 
court and der certificate of Fra Roderigo Anselmo. ” 

“ You will proclaim this accursed lie to the world? ” 
Donner und hlitzen, why not ? ” 

“My God!” breaks out the girl, “the man who 
has my love, to whom I have promised my hand I ” 

“Oh, Herr Philip Marston, that accursed Yankee 
naval officer,” mutters Ludenbaum savagely, rolling 
out an under-breath German oath. 

“ Z?/(9s miol He’ll think me untrue to him! He’ll 
believe me worse than faithless to my vows and his 
love ! He’ll — he’ll hear of it ! ” 

“ He has heard of it ! ” 

“Oh mercy! How?” The bride is reeling before 
the legal husband. 

“ Like most Americans, dis Marston reads der papers. 
Doubtless dat meddling Englishman Curzon has sent 
him der Diario de Manila with dis item. ” As he speaks, 
the German nonchalantly shoves before his bride’s 
haggard eyes a clipping of the paper similar to that 
which tortured Phil Marston in far-away Hong Kong. 


2/8 


JACK CURZON. 


“Oh God of Heaven, he’ll — he’ll think I am worse 
than untrue ! ” 

“ Verdammt t he’ll know you are my wife, and, as is 
proper, keep away from mein threshold.” 

“ Santo Dios I You have stolen from me not only 
his love but his respect ! ” shivers the girl, a kind of 
ague in her limbs. “You have robbed me both of my 
sister and affianced.” 

“You can have your sister, and der authority over 
her in mein house of mein wife.” 

“ No, no ! ” 

“ It is your only chance to see your sister. Think 
what you may save leedle Fraulein Mazie. German 
governesses are sometimes strong and strict. Frau 
Smoltz when she drove away looked stern as an ex- 
ecutioner,” chuckles Adolph, though the face of the 
girl he mocks would make any man pity Bully Gordon’s 
daughter save ex-Cabin-boy Max who is now aveng- 
ing the rope’s-end. 

“Thank you for making my sister’s fate depend on 
me ! ” cries the girl, a sudden ring in her voice astound- 
ing the German. The pleading Southern emotional 
attitude of his victim seems to change ; her form grows 
erect ; her eyes lose their pathos, the tears burn up in 
them. In a fla.sh they become two stars of blue bur- 
nished steel. With Anglo-Saxon decision and Ameri- 
can determination, she cries : I cornel'' 

Mein Gott^ as my wife Adolph’s eyes are lighting 
up with passion. His hands are outstretched to her. 
Then catching the shrinking of the girl’s form and a 
repugnant horror in her face she cannot veil, his voice 
grows stern, he mutters : “ You come no other 

way ! ” 

“ Still, I come ! ” 

“ Aha, GoU^ Himmell Donnerwetter ! ” This is a cry 
of triumph from the Prussian. His face is flaming 
with a tyrant love. With eager astonishment in his 
voice he suddenly asks : “ Why ? ” 

The girl answers, her cheeks pale as death save 
where two hectic spots burn like Are: “For re- 
venge ! ” 

Despite herself the words have slipped from her. 

“ For revenge ? ” echoes the Prussian with an as- 
tounded guffaw, Donner und Blitzenyfor revenge ? 


JACK CURZON. 


279 


Oho, dat is a good joke, mein lieblingV Then he 
chuckles grimly, “Come! Bridegroom Ludenbaum 
wants you mein/rau, for revenge 1 ” 


CHAPTER XXVI. 

INTO THE LION^S MOUTH. 

With triumphant chuckle, the jovial German turns 
from her and, running into the court-room, cries in his 
excited Teutonic way : “ Donnerwettery Herr Gott, Him- 
mell Your YlonoXy procur adores ^ frendts, mein schatz ac- 
cepts the verdict with wifely obedience. You shall drink 
at my plantation this evening the health of bride and 
groom. Verfluchtl she has acknowledged she has done 
me a cruel wrong eight years ago ; but I am magnani- 
mous. I forgive her. I take her to my heart.” 

Listening to her new-made lord and master, his victim 
on the veranda mutters these curious w'ords : “ God be 
praised, that demon is making me as remorseless as he is ! ” 
She casts one sharp, searching glance at the barracks on 
the neighboring hillside, and from now on all Latin emo- 
tion seems to leave her. 

Coming back with his friends Ludenbaum finds a brisk 
Yankee bride with quick actions and direct but perchance 
coquettish American speech. 

Maud is no more the maiden of the tropics, but the 
girl of her father’s blood and land, as they all stroll out 
on the veranda, and God of Heaven 1 congratulate her. 
The judge kisses her hand and wishes Dona Ludenbaum 
a happy wedded life ; for this sapient old jurist believes 
he has done a very good thing for the girl, and has no 
doubt of the genuineness of the certificate of marriage 
upon which he has ruled. 

To his compliments the bride replies quite prettily, 
and makes a little plea to this great man : “ Dear Don 
Ulah, can I have my marriage lines 

“ CiertOy my child I ” and the judge orders the clerk to 
deliver to her the original certificate with Fra Roderigo 
Anselmo’s signature, that official having already made 
a certified copy of same. 

With this accursed thing in her grip, looking at the 


28 o 


JACK CURZON. 


spouse His Honor has decreed her, Maud waves her 
white hand and lightly says : “ for a moment, Don 

Adolph.” 

“ Mein herz^ you leave me now ? ” cries Ludenbaum 
astounded. 

“ Only for — for a little while. You forget a lady’s 
baggage ! It is there at the house,” she points her 
dainty hand, “ where I have received the hospitality of the 
alcaldk,"' she courtesies to that official, “ for the last four 
months.” 

The others are chatting and laughing a little apart 
from bride and groom. Ludenbaum, who has no wish 
to let his prey out of his eyes, whispers to her sharply : 
“ You will stay here ! From now on I direct the family 
movements, mein frau'^ 

“ It’s — it’s only for a few moments — my — my dresses ! ” 
mutters Maud desperately. 

“ Have been already sent to my house, mem schatz^' 
laughs Adolph. 

“You — you don’t fear I’ll — I’ll run away from you.? ” 
queries the girl, with a miserable attempt at lightness, 
for this has placed an almost fatal block upon her plans. 

“ Bah ! You have no personal card. Without it, the 
first village teniente would clap you into jail.* Besides,” 
he laughs, “ you haven’t money enough to hire a buffalo. 
As your husband I am by law the guardian of your per- 
son and estate. So to be very sure, mein liebes herz^ pre- 
sent thy husband with your purse. I run the family 
finances.” 

For one moment Maud’s eyes blaze ; then a rebellion 
that would be hopeless not being in her line of defense, 
she silently passes her purse to her decreed spouse. 

“Thanks for your wifely obedience. Now remember 
our guests ! ” 

And the conversation becomes more general as they 
wait for the carromatas and buffalo-carts to be brought 
up, Ludenbaum having insisted they all go with him to 
his plantation house to his nuptial festa. 

Into this project Maud goes apparently with Yankee 
energy, inviting procuradores^ clerks and attorneys, even 
those who had a hand in her undoing. 

* “ Every inhabitant of the colony is compelled to carry a per- 
sonal card, which answers the purpose of a passport.” — Don Pinto 
de Guimares in Revue des Revues. 


JACK CURZON. 


281 


She is like a butterfly flitting over the lights that singe 
its wings. She laughs when she could break out in her 
agony and fly at the sapient judge and tear his hair and 
scream at him : “ Accursed ! ” 

Perchance she would grow hysterical, but a little hope 
comes to her. Ludenbaum, whose presence is ever an 
agony to her, has left her side and is talking to El Cor- 
regidor, whose mule team has just come up to bear him 
to San Isidro. And on the opposite hill she sees a 
Chinaman is flying a kite, the same big bat that had 
spoke to her before. 

On its wings all letters have been erased, but its body 
now bears, as it waves through the air, a gigantic ? . 
Gazing from this, she sees the being Adolph’s mandate 
had kept her from getting word with — little Zima. 

The Negrita girl is sitting with half a dozen indolent 
natives near the vehicles that are now arriving to take 
the party to the Plantation Ludenbaum. 

With this Maud’s eyes fly to the little presidio where 
Chaco is putting his hundred men through evening 
parade and military exercise. This gives her self-com- 
mand en(*ugh to extend her hand to the salute of Don 
Rafadl Lozado as he murmurs : “ Congratulate me, I am 
happy. Mi amigo^ Don Adolph has promised me that 
your sister shall accept my offer of marriage.” 

“ Has he? And Mazie ? ” 

“ He has promised the child shall be obedient ! ” 

“ Aha ! And I ? ” 

“ You, of course, will bow to the will of your husband. 
Dona Ludenbaum.” 

“ I — oh yes — of course — bow to the will of my husband. 
You — you needn’t kiss my hand as if you were grateful,” 
she stammers. 

The Spaniard takes his leave and, going to his carriage, 
is driven off down the mountain road towards far-away 
San Isidro. 

Gazing after him, Maud thinks : “ One villain is elimi- 
nated from the problem of this night ! ” Her eyes seek 
the moving Spanish infantry at the presidio. She mutters 
these curious words : “ I wonder if their guns are loaded 
now with ball cartridge.” She looks on little Zima ; then 
cries lightly: “Judge Don Ulah Pico, you shall assist 
me to my carriage, and shall have the honor of driving 
with me to my house.’^ 


282 


JACK CURZON. 


“ My carriage, my house ? ” laughs Ludenbaum, com- 
ing nearer to her. “ Oh, how happy you make me, my 
wife ! ” 

“Do I? Come Judge! You — you don’t make brides 
every day 1 ” She holds out an exquisite hand to him. 

Seizing this, His Honor conducts the lady, upon whose 
fair limbs he has just placed the chains of matrimony, to 
her husband’s carriage, a country barouche old and dil- 
apidated, but drawn by a couple of stout ponies, which 
has just returned from delivering Frau Smoltz and poor 
little Mazie at the family mansion. 

As the judge seats himself beside Maud, her legal 
spouse snarls to himself : “ The cunning devil did that 
to be rid of me for another hour. Just wait mein leedle 
mddchen I ” 

But Maud is doing even more than Adolph guesses. 

As they drive off, at her quick nod Zima, who has been 
looking tor it, jumps up beside the Indian driver of her 
carriage. So, followed by quite a little string of wagons, 
in one of which sits Adolph, trying to keep his rage in 
bounds and laughing with the alcalde, Maud schools her- 
self to listen to the judge’s platitudes of how lucky a 
girl she is, and how good a wife she should be to the 
great merchant prince ; Ludenbaum’s fortune seeming 
immense in rural Nueva Ecija. 

The ponies prance down the palm-shaded road which, 
after a little, turns from the mountain stream and crosses 
the low divide to the entrance of the great canon- in which 
the plantation house of Don Adolph Ludenbaum is 
placed, nearly three miles from Carranglan. 

Turning up the defile the gorge is deep and flanked by 
two great precipices whose steep sides are veiled by 
masses of eternal verdure. 

Between these sheer green walls, Maud’s ponies tramp 
under great trees of teak, dogon and ipel, beneath whose 
shade flourish luxuriant ferns, curious orchids and twin- 
ing parasites that, growing under the dense foliage of the 
forest, make a jungle on the ground, beneath a jungle a 
hundred feet above it in the air. 

Beside the unused trail dashes a mountain torrent, 
which, higher up the defile, falls into the canon by a 
series of cascades down a precipice on which grow, 
moistened by the vapors of the waterfalls, unending wild 
flowers. 


JACK CURZON. 


283 

Some hdf mile from the entrance of the gorge stands 
the big stone plantation house which has been occupied 
during this war of insurrection only by a few dependents 
of the estate. Therefore it is not in proper garb for 
company. 

But still about it there is festivity. For orders have 
been sent in advance, and a hundred torches, perched 
upon a hundred palm trees, light up the forest that, 
spreading here, makes a garden plot of some half hun- 
dred acres. 

The windows of Ludenbaum’s residence are alight, 
and even from the lower ones, where the servants congre- 
gate, comes a ruddy glow into the darkness, which in 
these canons falls very quickly. The sun was setting as 
they left Carranglan, and now the monkeys are howling 
in the tree-tops, the cry of the wild-cat is heard far up 
the forest, the fireflies are making the foliage gleam with 
darting incandescence ; it is a tropic night. 

As Maud’s ponies stop before the steps to the great 
entrance, the native superintendent of the estate comes to 
her and greets her as mistress of the mansion ; a retinue 
of Indian boys and girls bow down before her. A 
moment after the bridegroom, his face inflamed by wine 
and triumph, and what he calls love, flies to her and cries 
effusively, perchance for the ears of his guests who are 
gathering about his festal board upon the big balcony : 

Welcome mein Uebling to mein home. Behold the fes- 
tival to greet the coming bride ! ” 

As she steps from the carriage, of a sudden a hundred 
more torches are lighted up by lithe Indian boys in the 
cocoanut grove, producing such a blaze that the monkeys 
run screaming through it, and the parrots fly shrieking 
through the air. 

Then as the master of the house claps his hands, the 
Carranglan brass band, lithe Mestizo boys most of them, 
comes marching up playing most sweetly, on their horns, 
tubas and cornets made from kerosene-cans, some airs 
that carry Maud back with an awful start to Annapolis 
cadet hops. 

And the girl goes nearly crazy, for the “ Washington 
Post March ” is sounding in her ears that she and Phil 
had often danced to in far-away America. 

Then with a shiver Annapolis fades away from her, 
and, looking into the face of her decreed bridegroom, the 


284 


JACK CURZON. 


maid knows there is but one thing now that can give 
her to the arms of him she loves as the same girl who 
left the kisses of her American betrothed — as Maud 
Gordon immaculate ! 

“ My sister ! ” she mutters hoarsely, for Adolph has 
approached nearer to her, and perchance would proffer 
bridegroom’s caress. “ Half an hour with her I 

“ And then, mein sweet dove ? ” 

“ And then half an hour to deck myself to make you 
proud of me as I do the honors of your house.” 

“ But first one leedle kiss, mein liebling.’* 

“ What ! Before your guests ? ” Her eyes flash with 
rebellion. 

“ Donner und hlitzen ! You are mein legal wife, why 
not ? ” 

“ Not yet ! For God’s sake, — not yet ! ” she whispers, 
a frantic misery in her voice. “ This thing has come upon 
me in a moment— two hours — two short hours ! ” 

“And den?” he iterates, his eyes aglow. “You re- 
member the terms on which you came here. I suppose I 
might just as well tell you now,” he adds, “dat you can’t 
go way from here. At the entrance of the canon, mein 
Indians have instructions you and your sister go not out ; 
and here / am master ! ” 

“ Of course ! I am a Catholic, I know I am yours — till 
death.” Her face has something in it that Herr Adolph 
doesn’t understand, but it is not a blush. Beware the 
bride who blushes not upon her wedding day. 

She runs up the big steps, turns, and forcing herself to 
kiss her hand to him, remarks : “ Your guests are calling 
for you. The judge suggests that they are hungry.” 

So turning from his bride, Ludenbaum mutters to him- 
self : “ I’ll soon stopv your pranks,’ my lady. A very 
leedle while and you will know your husband’s will is 
law ! ” 

As for the threatened one, she glides into the half-de- 
serted house, gripping as she has gripped all this time, 
the hand of theNegrita Zima, as if the little black savage 
was her Rock of Ages. 

A moment later an Ilocos girl leads Maud to her room, 
and says: “Your chamber, Dona Ysabel.” The very 
home-like nature of the place affrights her ; her robes are 
laid ready for her on the mosquito-netted Filipino bed. 

“ Can I bring you anything ? ” asks the servant. 


JACK CUR20K. 


285 


“ Nothing ; my maid is here ! ” 

“ Then can 1 join the dance outside ? 

“ Yes — of course ! ” 

“ Gracias ! You will make a good mistress. May you 
be blessed in wedlock.” The girl tosses two flowers at 
the bride and laughs : “ Don Adolph’s is the next 

chamber ! ” 

With a gasp Maud sinks down beside the Negrita 
Zima and whispers, her face pale as death : “ You 

dear little black thing, I have two errands for you, upon 
which hangs my life, likewise the fate of Mazie, your dear 
mistress. Will you do them faithfully ? ” 

“ By Cambunian, I swear it, yes ! ” 

Then Maud speaks into the black ear two errands, 
charging Zima to care, secrecy and speed! “For on the 
fleetness of your footsteps, little black thing,” she sighs, 
“ my life depends.” Then suddenly mutters : “ Will 

the Indian keepers let you, my maid, pass the gate of the 
canon ?” 

“ You wish me to go very quick to the Tagal, the 
Chinaman and the Spanish Captain ? ” 

“ Like the wind ! ” 

Then not by the canon I go. That is three miles ! 
By the tree-tops, whose upper branches spread over the 
canon walls, is but a mile.” 

“ Ah yes, you can climb trees like a monkey ! ” 

“ Was I not once a wild Negrita ? ” whispers the girl. 
And Maud remembering, blesses God she has this little 
monkey for her aid. 

“ Your clothes will hinder you.” 

^'Diablo, I wear them not!” laughs the black 
minx ; and Maud watching her, sees the girl speed down 
the staircase and glide into the shrubbery silent as a snake. 

Even as she turns from this, Mazie’s arms fly around 
her. She whispers : “ I heard your voice. You have 
come to save me from that brutal woman.” 

Santos ! What has she done 1 ” 

“ Nothing yet, but threatens much, if I don’t promise to 
wed old Don Rafael.” 

“ Then quick I I want your aid I ” 

“ For what ? ” 

“ I would be beautiful to-night.” 

“ Beautiful — for the sake of the wretch to whom they say 
you have been wedded I O misericordia, my sister — you 


286 


JACK CURZON. 


— you come here as Ludenbaum’s wife ! ” screams the 
younger girl in a kind of sobbing daze. 

“ I could come no other way.” 

“ Diablo I I despise you ; faithless to your lover ! ” 

“ God ! don’t drive me to despair, you foolish thing,” 
cries Maud savagely, and turns her eyes upon her 
sister, at which the other whispers with white lips : 
“ Santissima ! your face ! What does it mean ? ” 

“ Nothing that you can understand, thank God ! ” 
whispers the new-made bride, her sweet voice harsh and 
discordant ; then cries excitedly : “ Deck me, to win 
safety for us both ! ” 

As the robe she had w^orn in the court-room slips from 
her shoulders, the paper stained by age contrasting with 
the whiteness of her bosom catches the bride’s glances. 
With a kind of curious fear in her face she carefully in- 
spects by the light of the wax tapers, the certificate of 
marriage signed by Fra Roderigo Anselmo, straining her 
eyes as she had never taxed them before. 

After a few moments of searching inspection, she gives 
a start and mutters : “ I think I understand how this was 
done. It is the last nail in this scoundrel’s coffin ! ” 
And from now on the girl makes her arrangements with 
a calmness that astounds even herself. 

So something like an hour after this, Maud seizes her 
sister in her arms, shuddering : “ Don’t come with me, 
my dear Mazie, I fight our battle alone ! Only if ” — ! 
Her kisses have a wondrous wistful tenderness and her 
face has that upon it, which makes Mazie retreat fright- 
ened from her. 

“ Go to the German woman, dear one — keep her en- 
gaged. As for me, ” Then some awful emotion chokes 

her, so that she cannot speak. Perchance it is unavailing 
rage and hideous shame, for over her neck, shoulders, 
arms and bosom flies a wave of flaming crimson, that 
changes suddenly to the pallor of death. 

She utters these curious words : “ I could have fled 
perhaps but still would have been called his wife — besides 
Mazie — this is the only way ! ” 

Sweeping out of the chamber, Maud joins her husband 
and his guests as they sit at the big table on the veranda ; 
the judge, the alcalde^ the procuradores, and nearly all 
who have been in the court-room this morning. Rising, 
they stare, astounded, at the beauty of the bride. 


JACK CURZON. 


287 


For she is like the queen of night ; fairy tissues of 
pina float about her from which arms, shoulders and 
bosom gleam like whitest Parian, but vibrate with the 
elastic graces of a sylph. Her cheeks glow with the fire 
of nervous excitement, her eyes glint like steel stars, 
brighter than the wax lights of the feast. 

“ Por Dios I ” mutters the judge. 

“ Santa Maria I ” whispers the alcald'e. 

“ Donner und Blitzen I ejaculates the bridegroom, and 
his eyes light up with triumph at the beauty of this 
woman who now must grace his home and do honor to 
his fireside, the beauty which is his — but perchance has 
not been decked for him. For once or twice even as she 
plays with the viands set before her by eager Ilocos 
table boys, and places the wine-glass to her lips, Maud 
turns her head, listening — as if for another cavalier. 

Then they all drink often to the bride and groom, 
those on the portico of the house in aristocratic foreign 
wines and vintages, for Ludenbaum has even now in his 
deserted house the remnants of a generous cellar. Down 
below, the natives and lower Mestizos quaff the bride’s 
health in anisette and the fermented liquor from the 
cocoanut ; and the fete grows very merry. 

Suddenly Ludenbaum, springing up, claps his hands 
and cries from the veranda : “ Boys, lead out the girls 
for the wedding dances ! ” 

With this, the Filipino band, striking up some soft 
native sensuous melody, the Tagals and Igorrotes of 
both sexes, with flying hair and yellow limbs shining with 
cocoanut oil, and Negritos black as the shadows of the 
night, commence to foot first the jota, and from this go 
into the comitan^ that writhing dance of Malay passion. 
Each girl, with a glass of water on her head carried with 
marvelous dexterity from practise of bearing baskets of 
fruit in similar fashion, plays coyly with the man pursu- 
ing her, as together they sing the music of the love ditty 
called the balitao. Then the maidens, throwing coyness 
to the winds, the dance becomes as passionate as the 
hula-hula of the Sandwich Islanders. 

To view this more closely the guests troop down the 
stairway to the ground beneath. Maud lingers on the 
balcony behind them. No sound comes to her strained 
ears from down the canon. Her anxious eyes rest upon 
a little bohie native knife used to carve with on the table. 


288 


JACK CURZON. 


The next second the weapon will be concealed within her 
robe. 

But even as her hand reaches for it, there is a firm 
grasp upon her arm. Ludenbaum whispers : Come 

with me to our guests. Mein leedle frau must not 
forget her hospitality.” With dominant manner of lord 
and master he leads his bride down the stairs and com- 
mands : “ See that you stay here ! ” 

Thus compelled, Maud stands near the writhing Indian 
dancers. 

After a moment or two, a new idea flies through her 
brain ! She turns eyes blazing with anxiety on each 
Tagal boy as with lithe limbs they circle about her — 
but sees not the two faces she seeks — and, sighing, places 
her hand upon her fluttering heart. 

Then hope flies up in her once more ; there are some 
Chinese Mestizos playing their never ending panguingui. 
Attempting unconcern, she strolls over to them, but 
not one of the gamblers looks up from his cards, no word 
is whispered to her to make her think Khy has received 
her message. 

“ Ay de mi,” she moans, “Zima has failed me ! I have 
placed myself in the lion’s mouth and they give me no 
weapons with which to fight ! Ata, my faithful one is not 
here ; the Chinese is a coward ; the Spanish captain comes 
not and, God of despair — the guests are going ! ” 

All are bidding the lady of the house adieu, though she 
strives to restrain them by proffer of wine, refreshments, 
and almost pleading eyes and words. 

But the alcalde has whispered : “ My cock-fight comes 
on in an hour, boys ! ” and combats of chickens are more 
alluring to Filipino gentlemen than even the hospitality of 
beauty or pleasures of Bacchus. 

Besides, Herr Ludenbaum is heeding the maxim 
“ Speed the parting guest,” calling their carriages for 
them, and, in a jovial manner, half shoving his visitors 
into the carromatas and buffalo carts. 

“ You don’t come with us, even for an hour } ” whispers 
the judge to his host. 

‘ ‘ Mem Beelzebub, no ! ” 

The German’s eyes turn from the lithe beauty of the 
native girls to the supreme loveliness of his fairy wife, 
who in an agony is listening for the noise of men coming 
up the canon. 


JACK CURZON. 


289 

But suddenly the bride breaks out into little screams 
and struggles; the dancing girls are round her, and, 
laughing, have seized her in their merry Filipino way, and 
are unbinding her hair and decking its lovely strands 
with flowers of happy marriage. 

As the noise of the last carriage wheel dies in the dis- 
tance, Maud stands, a Filipina bride decked for husband’s 
joy after the manner of the Island of Luzon. 

The melody of the band floats away down the defile. 

Then with cries of joy and shrieks of merriment and 
happy shouts the dancers fly from her, running down 
the canon, for they love cock-fights as well as their betters, 
and are anxious to see which rooster shall be champion 
of the piiehlo. 

At their master’s gesture the few native servants go 
sleepily into the house. The expiring lights of the festi- 
val are about them. Smoldering torches cast from the 
trees giant shadows. She strains her ears. No sound 
comes to them. Face to face, Maud stands alone with 
this man whom the law this day has called her husband. 

“ Mein Gott^ how beautiful you are ! ” The German’s 
eyes drink in her enchanting figure in all its shrinking 
graces. The anguish rippling her excited face gives it 
new beauties ; her very fear adds to her loveliness, as 
she trembles before his ardent glances. 

“ And now, my darling, German economy,’^ remarks 
Ludenbaum, in husband’s tones, “ white satin slippers 
will soil upon this damp ground. The lights in our apart- 
ments burn very cheerfully. Into the house, mein sueses 
mddchen / ” 

But she breaks out at him, in despairing procrastina- 
tion : “ I — I have several things to speak to you about.” 

And so have I, my wife, but they’ll do for to-morrow.” 

“ My sister’s wrongs won’t do for to-morrow ! ” answers 
the girl. “ That infamous Frau Smoltz has threatened 
Mazie if she agrees not to marry your friend, the senile 
Corregidor ” 

“ Ah, yes, young girls always at first object to older 
husbands, but at the last bow their heads to them. Eh, 
mein good wife ? ” In playful caress he pinches the cheek 
that grows more pallid even under his fingers. 

'‘But Mazie will never wed Don Rafadl!” cries his 
victim. 

“ She’ll do what I tell her ! ” 

19 


2go 


JACK CURZON. 


“ She'll not ! I came here to save her.” 

But lost yourself, mein leedle frau.” He lights non- 
chalantly a fresh cigar. This shrinking beauty is so 
^within his hands. 

“ She loves another ! ” 

“ So do you ; but that won't help you.” His virtuous 
glance reproves his erring spouse. 

“ God of Heaven, don't talk to me of him ! ” cries the 
bride in agony. 

“No, this is the last of the accursed Yankee Marston 
for both you and me. You are here as my wife, in my 
house. My will is law, or my strong arm makes it so ! ” 
He raised his hand in gesture brutal and significant. 

“ God of Heaven, why do you hate me so ? ” 

I you ! Listen I love you. I 
hated your father.” 

“ Infamous ! He was your companion ! But I re- 
member now,” whispers the girl. “You made him drunk 
so that when the Spanish troops came, he, in his liquor 
fought them, till they killed him. You must have been 
with him as he died.” 

“ I was. As the accursed sea-bully gasped out his life 
he told me he had made me the guardian of your sister, 
and begged my care for you and her. Then I told him 
who I was. Perhaps you have heard your fader speak of 
his leedle German cabin-boy Max.” 

“ Max ? The thief-boy who stole the plums out of his 
comrades' duff ; the sneak-boy who pilfered the medicine 
from the dying steward ! ” 

“ I am der thief-boy Max ! ” 

God of mercy ! ” 

“ For every blow your brutal fader struck my poor 
hide, I have sworn a revenge ! I got a leedle out of him. 
The rest I take out of his offspring.” 

“ And you say you love me ? ” 

“ Va^, it is mein revenge ! The most cruel thing I 
can do to you, is to love you like der devil ! ” 

“ God of Heaven, you are right ! ” screams the girl. 
For he would throw an arm about the fairy waist, and take 
her to his dastard heart. 

His eyes drive her frantic, she looks desperately about, 
but finds nothing ready to her hand, and pausing desper- 
ately on the first step of the stairs, raises her white arm in 
warning. 


JACK CUR20N. 


291 


“ You fool ! ” he guffaws, “ I knew your spirit, and I 
have taken care the servants left no cutting things about 
except your glances.” Then he goes on in stern and 
awful commonplace : “ You know upon what conditions 
you came to my home — our home. As my wife you will 
have charge of my household, but I shall take husband’s 
control of you.” 

“ 1 keep no conditions with you ; liar ! perjurer ! forger ! ” 
Oho, rebellious, alluring witch ! mein Himmel^ how I’ll 
love you ! Afterwards I takes der rebellion from dose 
saucy lips, mein liebling. Come to thy husband’s arms ! ” 

She is screaming in her soul : “ Philip ! if he should 

make me unworthy of you ! ” Her little hand is raised 
despairingly to strike him, when a panting breath is upon 
her shoulder. The Negrita girl, nude save a breech- 
clout, has seized Maud’s hand and drawn it behind her 
back, slipped an envelope into it, and is whispering : 
“ The Chinese evidence ! The Spanish captain will be 
here in a minute ! ” 

With a cry of joy Maud sees Roberto Chaco come 
dashing up, mounted on a Filipino pony under the great 
trees, some twenty of his men at double time slouching 
behind him. 

She turns on Ludenbaum and woman’s mercy flying 
into her, speaks like a flash : “ Wretch ! Dastard ! I 

give you one chance for your life. Announce here that 
I have never been your bride ; that the paper under which 
you claimed me as your spouse is a lie and a forgery. 
Sign over to me the guardianship of my sister — and I let 
you live !” 

“ Dofinerwetter f ” guffaws the German. “ Dis is funny. 
Give up your beauty that belongs to me by law ? Never ! 
Mein Himmel^ not for the joys of Heaven ! You said 
you came here for revenge, mein frau^ you shall learn 
that I, your spouse am your master. I’ll crush your 
tender loveliness till you shriek: ‘Husband, forgive me! 
Brute that you are, I love you ! Papa Ludenbaum, I love 
you ! ’ ” His stern hand is on her arm, his breath is on 
her cheek — his kisses will soon be on her lips. 

With a shriek she is from him ! 

And Chaco is now scarce twenty steps away. She 
cries : “ Spanish patriot soldier, what would you give to 
have the man who has done more ill to Spain, ay, even 
than Aguinaldo, in your hands for military justice ? ” 


JACK CURZON. 


592 

“ My life ! Caramha / where is the traitor ? ” and the 
ferocious captain springs off his pony. 

Then breaking into a hoarse laugh, the bride cries 
jeeringly “Cabin-boy Max, come here for punish- 
ment ! ” 


CHAPTER XXVII. 

DIVORCE BY COURT-MARTIAL. 

But Cabin-boy Max doesn’t seem to be frightened at 
these words. 

Stifling a curse at interruption, Herr Ludenbaum 
stepping to his visitor bows ceremoniously, remarking; 
“ You come rather late for the wedding feast, Herr Cap- 
tain, to which I suppose my bride has invited you. She 
is a little nervous and hysterical now, the agitation of the 
wedding day. But I’ll entertain you ! ” and turning, he 
speaks with the voice of a man on his own hearthstone : 
“ Maud, go into der house ! ” 

“ Not till I’ve given you military punishment. There’s 
your prisoner. Captain Chaco ! ” Her white hand points 
straight at her spouse. 

“ Mein Himmel^ Chaco, der poor leedle girl has gone 
out of her head ! ” mutters the astonished German. 

“ Don’t fear. I’ll keep my senses till I have destroyed 
you!” cries the bride determinedly. “You have been 
wedded to me by decree of law. I now claim from you 
divorce by court-martial ! You have publicly proclaimed 
to the world you are my husband. I shall now by mili- 
tary law make myself your widow I ” 

“ Mein Gott^ she is insane ! We must have a doctor 
for my hysterical darling. My dear Captain Chaco, you 
have a surgeon at your barracks ? ” And Ludenbaum 
would hold consultation with the officer as to medical 
advice, for in truth he thinks the girl has gone crazy. 

But the crazy one is now speaking words that make 
her legal spouse open his eyes with a start. 

“I can prove to you. Captain Chaco, by written re- 
ceipts, that this man as agent for the German Trading 
Company furnished the rebel, Aguinaldo, with modern 
rifles in great quantities, and rapid-fire guns and fixed 


JACK CURZON. 


293 


ammunition with which to shoot your brothers down. 
Without him the rebellion would have been a flash in the 
pan. Now it has cost the lives of twenty thousand 
Spanish soldiers.” 

“I will accept your proofs, Senora Ludenbaum,” re- 
plies Chaco, bowing before her, his eyes lighting up at 
the sight of her ecstatic beauty that gleams from a toilet 
that has been made to charm him. “ But,” he adds 
sturdily, “ they must be convincing and convicting ones.” 

More than papers ? ” 

“ Yes. I am a patriot, but an honest patriot. I don’t 
shoot upon doubt ! ” 

“ Will you give safe conduct to the men who can ex- 
plain how they came by them and prove the documents 
must be true ? ” 

“ Diablo ! Are the men rebel outlaws ? ” 

“ Of that you must judge for yourself.” 

“ Humph ! ” He thinks a minute ; then says sharply : 

“ If they can prove the things you say they can, Por Dios ^ 
yes ! Safe conduct for a day ; but no longer.” 

To this Ludenbaum has listened, not quite believing 
his ears. He now breaks in severely : “ This is rig- 

marole and bosh. Verdammt^ it is idiocy ! Maud, go into 
der house ! I’ll teach you to jabber such nonsense. 
Captain Chaco, I bid you good evening.” 

But the Spanish patriot has now got into his head not 
only the vision of a beauty that he loves, but the thoughts 
of bloodshed which he adores. He heeds not the man, 
but simply says to the woman : “ Seflora Ludenbaum, as 
commander of this district I accept your offer. I’ll call 
a court-martial, furnish me the proofs.” 

“ You’re crazy, fool ! ” cries the German savagely. 

“ Apparently you don’t know who I am. I am trusted 
by both Captain-Generals, not only by Don Primo de 
Rivera, but by Don Basilio Augustin, the new one. I 
am their intimate, their friend.” 

To this diatribe he gets no answer. The captain 
simply says : “ I have brought some twenty men with me, 
as your words suggested, Seflora Ludenbaum. Sergeant - 
Lopez, Corporal Sanchez and myself will make a drum- 
head.” 

A grave sergeant of gloomy and morose appearance 
and a corporal, agile, active and fierce, step from the 
ranks, draw up and salute their commanding officer. 


294 


JACK CURZON. 


“ Gott in Himmel, you’re mad ! I am a subject of the 
German Emperor.” 

“ Your witnesses, Doha Ludenbaum ! ” says Chaco 
sharply. 

And Maud raising up her voice, cries to the forest : 
“Ata, come to me and risk your life for your mistress’s 
honor ! ” 

For a moment there is no answer and the German 
jeers : “ Didn’t I tell you she was crazy.” 

“ Ata, my God ! are you not there ? ” screams the girl, 
an agony in her voice. “ Ah Khy, come here and tell your 
story — for vengeance on your father’s foe ! ” 

At her words, from the jungle, Ata, the Tagal, glides, 
kisses her hand reverently and mutters, “ Here, my 
mistress of the wild-rose breath ! ” 

To him she says hurriedly, “The Chinaman, is he not 
anxious to avenge his father’s wrongs ? ” 

“He is,” replies the Tagal, “but frightened for him- 
self. Has safe conduct been given ? ” 

“ It has,” answers Chaco.* And to Ata’s assuring 
call, Khy the Chinaman falters from out the thicket where 
he has been trying to smoke a cigarette. 

“You, Doha Ludenbaum, accuse this man to me, as 
officer commanding this district, of having aided and 
assisted the rebels under Aguinaldo ? ” says Chaco 
tersely. 

“ I do ! I swear it ! ” 

“ You are my prisoner, Senor Ludenbaum ! ” Three 
Spanish soldiers at his beckoning place themselves behind 
the German with ready weapons. 

This is a damned farce ! You don’t know me, young 
man ! I am the subject of the great German Emperor ! ” 
breaks in the Teuton who seemingly won’t believe ; 
though hot passion now has left his face and it is grow- 
ing pallid. 

“The great German Emperor doesn’t command the 
district of Carranglan,” says the Captain grimly. “The 
court will listen to the evidence ! Hold up two torches, 
men ; that we may read ! ” 

“ Then,” says Maud, producing them, “ here are three 
receipts written in this man’s own hand and signed by 
Atachio, Aguinaldo’s lieutenant ! ” 

'‘'‘Mein Gott, dose papers ! ” This is a suppressed gasp 
from the German. 


JACK CURZON. 


295 


“ Aha ! ” cries his accuser in triumph. But Luden- 
baum now snaps his jaws and gazes on in faltering, as- 
tounded silence ; once or twice remarking in a dazed 
way : “ /r/ ’s moglich” 

“The first,” goes on the girl consulting the papers, 
“is for five thousand stands of arms for AguinaMo and 
three field-pieces, delivered from the Alucia steamer near 
Batangas, November twenty-fifth, eighteen hundred and 
ninety-six.” 

“ Diablo f ” snarls the sergeant between his teeth. 

“ The second, for four thousand rifles and one hundred 
cases of ammunition delivered to Atachio in Manila the 
25th of February, eighteen hundred and ninety-seven.” 

“ Carantha I the day before the Carabine? os mutinied 
and killed my brother,” mutters Sanchez. 

“ Shut your mouth. Corporal ! ” commands Chaco, “or 
ril blow three teeth out of your jaw with my pistol. Pro- 
ceed, Senora.” And he stands grimly listening as Maud 
goes on : 

“The third is for one hundred cases of small arms and 
three rapid fire-guns landed at Subig Bay and given to 
Santallano and Del Pila. ” 

“Del Pila ! the murderous brute who burnt up poor Fra 
Roderigo Anselmo and the Padres over there ! ” snarls 
the captain in very nasty voice. “ Let me read these 
papers ! ” 

By the light of a burning torch which one of his men 
holds up for him, Don Roberto’s face grows very grim as 
he scans the receipts. “ These are true upon their face ! ” 
he says. 

“ God be praised ! ” cries Maud in ecstacy. 

“ But I want evidence how these were obtained. I 
want to know that they are genuine ! ” remarks Chaco, 
suspiciously. “Jealous women,” he looks searchingly 
upon the fair accuser, “ sometimes don’t hesitate at little 
things for putting out of the way inconvenient husbands. 
I am an honest patriot ! ” and he glares in a bloodthirsty 
way at Ludenbaum, who has several times opened his 
mouth as if to speak, but seemingly his throat has been 
too dry for the effort. 

“ So are we!” asserts the sergeant. “Both Sanchez 
and myself I ” 

“ Silence in the court ! ” orders his commanding officer. 
“ Neither of you talk till I give you leave. Listen to the 


JACK CURZON. 


296 

evidence and vote as I tell you ! I want to know how 
these came into your hands, Senora Ludenbaum.” 

Then comes the bravest act the Tagal ever did. Ata 
Tonga stepping forth before an enemy he knows is merci- 
less as death, condemns himself as rebel a dozen times 
by telling all about the mutiny of the Carabineros. 

Twice during the recital Chaco’s hand goes to his pistol 
abstractedly, but the click of a gun-lock from one of his 
men reminds him. He sternly says : “ This rebel has my 
word for his life. The man that injures him without my 
orders dies by my hand. Proceed, Senor Tonga. You 
say you tracked this man at night by scent. I have heard 
wondrous tales of the noses of your wild mountain tribes, 
but never tested one, because I shoot all wild mountain 
Indians upon sight. As for this Chinaman, let him tell 
his story, only let him beware he tells the truth.” 

And Ah Khy, setting forth the reason of his father’s 
hatred for Ludenbaum, gives account in rather trembling 
voice of how he stole the receipts from the two frightened 
conspirators. 

To this, Chaco says suddenly : “ Senor Ludenbaum, I 
want your pocketbook ! ” 

“ Mein Himmel^ there’s not much money in it. Captain. 
Let me fill it for you.” 

“ I want your writing.” 

“ Read it, inspect it ! It will show my innocence ! ” 
cries the German, joy in his mercantile face. 

Glancing over the papers in it, the simple Spanish Cap- 
tain looks astounded, and mutters : “ The writing in the 
body of the receipts is 7iot the same as this man’s letters 
in his own hand.” Then breaks out : “ You Tagal liar 
testified he said they were written by his own hand. You 
Chinese scoundrel, for private revenge, would have sworn 
away this man’s life. Senora, the court is not made an 
instrument of fraudulently getting rid of unpleasant hus- 
bands.” He glances at Maud’s astounded face scornfully 
despite its beauty. “ Senor Ludenbaum, you are free. 
Take good care of this lady, your bride. She will probably 
lead you a very merry dance,” he sneers. 

“ Ay de me I ” comes from Maud in despairing sigh. 

“ I like not false witnesses ! ” goes on Chaco sternly. 

“ Neither do we ! ” growls the sergeant. 

“ Take these two scoundrels off and shoot them ! ” 

But Ah Khy, who is fighting for his life, grabs the mili- 


JACK CURZON. 


297 

tary autocrat by his knees and screams : “ You sabd ! 
Ludenbaum heap deep scoundrel ! Ludenbaum no damn 
fool ! Him no write as him write other t’ings. Him 
used disguised hand ! 

“ The court has heard enough upon that point ! Senor 
Ludenbaum, you are free,” repeats the Captain, turning 
his eyes away from the loveliness that is beaming despair- 
ingly upon him as if to allure him from what he thinks is 
not his duty. Then he orders : “ Shoot those men at 
once, and bring me my pony ! Here’s your pocketbook. 
Adios^ Senor.” 

The soldiers turn from Ludenbaum and seize the silent 
Tagal and the shrieking Chinaman. 

With a bound Maud is beside Ata, and on his brow 
puts kiss of farewell muttering: “No devotion could give 
more than life, my faithful one.” 

“Ah, were it not in vain, mistress of the wild-rose 
scent ! ” sighs the Indian, as he is dragged from her. 

And the scene becomes a hideous tableau. The men, 
save the firing party, are standing at ease some few steps 
away awaiting orders, though one is leading his pony to 
the officer. The half burnt torches still illuminate the 
place, bringing out the shadows of the jungle coming 
down from the mountains at each side of the little garden. 
Further up the glade there is an open space on which 
grows a gigantic banyan tree, to which they are leading 
the condemned, whose arms are now bound behind 
them. 

“Thanks, Captain Common-sense,” cries the German 
laughingly, the joy of victory in his face ; adding in Teu- 
tonic grandiloquence : “ Herr Captain, don’t be afraid. 
I’ll not report this matter to mein frendt Captain-General 
Augustin. But as for you ! ” His stern grip is upon his 
wife’s bare shoulder, he is whispering to her : “ Mein 
devil, mein hexe, into the house ! To-night you shall sob 
out your penitence under the weight of husband’s arm ! ” 

“ Yes, that’s kinder ! ” she gasps. “ Better your blows 
than your kisses.” 

“ You shall have both ! ” 

“ O God of mercy ! ” But all the time she is thinking 
for her very life. She knows there can be no happiness 
for her with this man alive. She knows her only hope to 
go back to the arms she loves as Maud Gordon immacu- 
late, is by this man’s death right here— 2iS he stands before 


298 


JACK CURZON. 


her triumphant, grinning, his rage turning into passion 
as he looks upon her beauty. 

Then suddenly a Yankee idea flits through her mind. She 
tears herself from Ludenbaum. Running to the Spaniard, 
she places a despairing grasp upon Don Roberto’s arm, 
even as he would step into his saddle and pleads : “ You 
don’tbelieve me, because you think I was this man’s wife for 
eight years and refused to acknowledge it. Even in the 
court to-day you flaunted me with this. I never entered 
the bonds of wedlock before Padre Anselmo. Your eyes 
were deceived by this forger then, as they are duped by 
this same trickster now ! ” 

“ That’s impossible ! I know poor Fra Roderigo’s 
signature as well as I know my own,” mutters Chaco 
gloomily, feeling for his stirrup and resolutely keeping 
his eyes from a loveliness that makes him half mad with 
anguish. 

“ Of course you know Roderigo’s signature ; but the 
change in the document isrCt his signature. Look ! 
She has the marriage certificate drawn from out her pant- 
ing, bosom. “ Order a torch ! I insist you examine it. 
You have a field-glass on you. Quick, give it to me ! ” 
She unscrews the lens nearest the eye, then reversing the 
instrument puts it over the document, and cries : “ Look 
through it ! ” 

“ Diablo^ a magnifying glass ! ” gasps the captain. 

“ Safttos, by the torchlight, see ! ” screams Maud. 
“ The names of the two contracting parties erased and over 
them written my name and that of that villain there ! ” 

“ Caramba^ your words are true ! Without words of 
priest over you, that villain claimed a husband’s rights 
upon your beauty ! Santa Maria / it would have been 
pollution.” He makes the sign of the cross over her. 
There is a look of rapture on his medieval face as he mut- 
ters : “ Dios mio, I ask your pardon humbly for ever 
doubting you, honored lady ! ” 

A clicking of gun-locks and wild screams from Ah 
Khy, call his attention. He orders “ Don’t shoot the 
Tagal and the Chinaman till I say the word ! Keep 
that man here ! ” 

He points to Ludenbaum, who answers with an as- 
tounded snarl : “ Gott Allmachtiger ! You are going to 

try an innocent man again ? Dat devil’s eyes are be- 
witching you ! ” 


JACK CURZON. 


299 

And so they might, for never were more pleading yet 
enchanting glances thrown on any man than upon this 
Spanish captain, as he meditates on life and death. 

A second’s thought and Chaco commands : “ Unbind 
and bring here those two witnesses ! The court is in 
session again, is it not Sergeant Corporal } ” 

“ If you say so, Captain ! ” 

“ Beware, fool ! Don Basilio Augustin y Davila, the 
new Captain-General, will reckon with you if you harm a 
hair of my head,” threatens Ludenbaum. 

“ Still,” mutters Chaco, “ I want more evidence ; 
something to prove beyond a doubt.” 

“ How can more be given ? ” cries Maud. “ Didn’t 
you hear that scoundrel’s exclamation of affright about 
the papers ? That showed his guilt. Haven’t you 
learned how the receipts were obtained ? ” 

“ Yes. It is a strange story tracking a man by scent 
like pointer dog. Of course. I’ve heard the Tagals do 
it.” 

“ Pooh, dis is damned nonsense ! In the name of the 
German Emperer I defy you ! ” sneers Adolph drawing 
himself up in proud supremacy. For Germans have some 
funny ideas about the power of their erratic Kaiser, in 
other countries than his own. 

“ Look at his other papers in him pocketbook ! ” begs 
Khy. “ Gib him me ! Me sly as Dutchy.” And made 
brave by fear the Chinaman grabs the pocketbook from 
the German, before Ludenbaum half guesses what’s being 
done to him. 

“ Iferr Gott, Mein Himmel I You don’t know who you 
are robbing, lunatics ! ” cries Herr Adolph. And he would 
struggle for it. 

But the Captain says hoarsely : “ See what you make 
out of it, Chinese fox.” 

At this Ludenbaum’s face, for a moment ghastly, grows 
scoffing. He mutters, “ You are crazy. Captain Chaco ! ” 
but turns away as the latter signs for one of his men to 
hold a flambeau for the despairing Khy who goes through 
the documents with trembling hands but very searching 
eyes. 

“ What do you find ? ” asks the Captain. 

“Nothing— so help me Josh— nothing ! ” sighs the 

Chinaman. . 

“ Aha ! Oho ! ” The Teuton is guffawing. 


300 


JACK CURZON. 


“ Stay ! Kerens a letter in German.’^ 

“ Caramba^ who can read it ? ” 

‘‘ I can ! ” screams Khy. “ Took the first prize in 
Dutch at Yale ! ” 

“ Ein tausend Teufels.^' 

“ Say ! What you want better than this ! This letter 
just received from German Trading Company says in 
consideration of lost receipts they have at last audited 
Herr Adolph Ludenbaum’s bill for arms and ammuni- 
tion. They don’t say whom they were delivered to ; but 
here’s a detail list corresponding to receipts ! You sabe, 
Captain Chaco ! ” 

“ Do you swear to this ? ” 

“ By the Rooster’s head ! If you don’t believe me, 
Captain Chaco, there’s a German woman in the house, 
ask her.” 

Twice the German has raised his hand to interrupt the 
reading of the letter, but all the time, though his face is 
towards the Spaniards, he is gradually shuffling closer 
to the dense clump of guava bushes matted with coffee 
vines that runs down from the mountain side in tangled 
thicket, to within some five paces from his back. 

As the Captain inspects the letter the Chinaman 
places in his hands, and the corporal and the sergeant 
to indicate they can read German gaze over their com- 
mander’s shoulder from respectful distance, Ludenbaum 
with shuffling feet, though he keeps his face turned upon 
his judges, backs slowly towards the jungle. 

“ Caramba^ these prove his guilt beyond a doubt ! 
Don’t they. Sergeant ? How say you, Corporal ? ” asks 
Chaco sternly. 

“ I always knew he was guilty ! ” mutters the sergeant 
gloomily. 

“ I was sure we’d have to shoot the villain ! ” laughs 
the corporal savagely. 

But Maud screams suddenly : “ My God, he is escap- 
ing ! ” For Ludenbaum now feels the thicket brushing 
his back, and suddenly turning, with a bound disappears 
into the jungle. 

“ Shoot him ! ” cries Chaco. 

But what are they to shoot, in the thick foliage of the 
virgin forest masked by the blackness of a tropic night, 

The Captain and three or four soldiers spring into the 
canebrake, but after a minute reappear, cursing the 


JACK CURZON. 301 

thorns that have torn their hands and faces, without the 
fugitive. 

“ Santa Maria, it’s like finding a winner in the Manila 
lottery ! ” growls the corporal. 

“ Carrajo, even at daylight under these infernal trees 
it is black as midnight,” rejoins the sergeant. 

“ Now for the man responsible for the prisoner’s es- 
cape ! ” snarls their commander with such awful eyes that 
both the corporal and sergeant tremble. He wipes the 
perspiration of exertion mixed with blood drawn by 
scratching prickles from his brow, for he has been strug- 
gling through the undergrowth. 

“ God of Mercy, the court has decreed I was his wife ! 
I have assumed in his house the position of his spouse. 
If that accursed villain gets to Manila, save as his wife, 
my good name is forever gone ! ” shudders Maud. 

“ Don’t grieve, mi querida ! ” whispers Chaco. “ I, 
the man who loves you, know your innocence. That’s 
enough for me. It should be enough for yow, ^ina de mi 
alma ! ” 

At this the girl gives a little broken, jeering cry, for it 
is not Chaco’s good opinion that she wants. Phil Marston 
will now believe she has been de facto the wife of Luden- 
baum. If he’s got a man’s brains he can’t help it ! 

As she thinks this, a shiver, cold as ice, runs through her 
veins, the hot air of the tropics cannot warm her. 

“ Dear mistress of the rose breath, you want this vil- 
lain found ? ” cries Ata Tonga, who has looked on sneer- 
ingly at Spanish jungle-craft. 

“ By every hope of future happiness ! I want his death 
now — right here ! I can’t live as his wife ! ” screams 
the distracted bride. 

“ Then, I’ll find him for you ! ” 

“ Pha, impossible ! In the darkness of this trackless 
undergrowth what glance could follow an elephant ? ” 
jeer the Spanish captain. 

“ Not by gaze, but by scent ! You sneered at the 
power of my nose, Spaniard. See what it will do in the 
impenetrable gloom of a forest night.” 

“ Caramba, try it ! His capture is free pardon for you 
and this Chinese of trembling hand and broken patois, 
but who reads letters easy as any clerk or monk.” 

“ Ata, you sabe, catch him ! For the love of Josh, 
catch Ludy ! ” falters Khy. 


JACK CURZON. 


302 

Into the jungle, taking scent like blood-hound, glides 
the Tagal. 

They all stand breathless listening ; but to them come 
no noises save the sounds of the forest, the chattering 
of some awakened monkeys, the cries of birds disturbed 
upon their roosts. 

Suddenly from out the jungle, but a little way down 
the path, bursts Ludenbaum, running, and screaming : 
“ God of Heaven, some wild beast is tracking me by 
scent ! ” And the Spanish troops spring up and seize him 
as the Tagal comes on the path like a hound. 

“ That settles it, you’re a dead man, aider of Rebels ! 
That’s your vote, is it not. Sergeant Corporal ? ” com- 
mands Chaco, hoarsely. 

“ Of course, Do7i Capitan ! ” 

“ Take him to that tree ! ” 

But here the German seeming now to understand the dire 
extremity in which he is, the scene becomes an awful one. 
His eyes are bursting from his head; he is crying : “ You 
fool, you idiot, you dare not shoot me, der friendt of the 
Captain-General ! Lunatic imbecile, it would be your 
death.” 

“ I dare shoot anyone I condemn. Prisoner Luden- 
baum, I’ll give you five minutes if you wish to pray. But 
I have learned military discretion under Don Valeriano 
Weyler. His motto was : ‘ Do what you think best ; and 
see that the government at Madrid never hears of it.’ I am 
patriot enough to shoot you ; and I have discretion enough 
never to let the Captain-General know I did it. No word 
goes from this district save by my permission. Say your 
prayers if you have any God, which Germans often have 
not. If you are a Catholic, here’s my rosary and crucifix.” 

“ Verdammt^ you don’t understand ! Mein Himmel^ I am 
one of der richest men in Manila. I am der friendt of the 
Captain-General. Ten thousand silver dollars ; let me 
send a message to Judge Pico.” 

“ I care not for the judge. I like to give the law a 
slap in the face.” 

“ Twenty thousand thalers ! I am very rich ! ” 

“ Don’t tempt a poor man ! ” 

“ Fifty thousand ! ” 

“ It is not enough ! ” cries Maud, savagely. “ For I’ll 
give you. Captain Chaco, his whole estate when I am 
made his widow ; my own, besides, if neqessary ! ” 


JACK CURZON. 


303 


“ But you will not be his widow ? 

“ I shall be by decree of court, and as such, take all 
his property, to which I add my own.” 

“ And yourself ? ” 

“ O Dios mio ! ” shudders the girl, “ myself ? ” Hope 
leaves her face ; her eyes grow haggard. 

“ I mean you true as ever knight meant lady. You 
shall be my bride, Cruz de Cristo /” 

But the German is faltering : “ Take everything, let me 
escape.” 

“ Diablo, you might go to your friend the Captain-Gen- 
eral ; besides I am a S^panish patriot.” 

Roberto turns his stern glance from the trembling 
prisoner ; his eyes grow soft and tender as they rest upon 
the accusing goddess. Ah, never were scales of justice 
so heavily weighted down ! A girl-widow, beautiful as 
the tropic scene in which she stands, a fortune colossal, 
not only the dying man’s, but hers. By Heaven, it would 
take a hundred Kaisers to save a friend of rebels with 
such a lure against him from a bloodthirsty Spanish 
patriot soldier. 

“ Take him away, but as you love your lives, see he 
doesn’t again escape. Let me hear the rattle of your rifles 
within three minutes ! No, I’ll go with you, it’s safer 
thus ! ” commands Chaco, as his men handle their arms. 

“ Not before my eyes ! ” falters the girl. 

“ No, mein Gotti Plead to him, Maud ! Mein Himmel, 
der captain loves you ! ” shrieks Laudenbaum. 

“ Five thousand stands of arms for Santallano and Del 
Pila. Remember your burnt-up priests ! ” cries the bride 
desperately. 

“ I avenge their sainted ashes ! ” answers Chaco cross- 
ing himself reverently, then orders hoarsely : “ Let ten 
men form the firing party ! ” 

“ A hundred thousand devils, are you crazy ! Dolt, 
you’re killing yourself. Mercy for Ludenbaum the great 
man of Manila ! Mercy for the friendt of the Captain- 
General ! Mercy! You don’t understand I Girl, I’ll s'.vear 
in court of justice, dis forgery has been done by me ! 
I’ll put you free before the world. I’ll ” 

“ Take him away ! ” 

Then, as they drag him from her into the obscurity of 
the forest, up into the night goes a hideous shrieking 
German cry: Herr Gott! Mein Himmell Donnerwet- 


304 


JACK CURZON. 


ter I ’’ And a tiger-cat up the canon answers it, thinking 
it is the howl of his mate, cubbing in her cave. 

The Tagal and the Chinaman, not daring to press 
Chaco’s mercy farther, have disappeared. Maud’s heart 
is beating as if it would force its way from her bosom. 
She stands shuddering but deathly calm — to be made a 
widow. 

From out the gloom of the forest night comes faintly to 
her the hoarse-voiced Spanish command : “ Apunten I ” 

“ Morder I ” This is a German howl. 

* ‘ Fuego ! ” 

On the breeze floats the rattle of Mausers and an un- 
earthly shriek ! 

The girl claps her hand to her heart, gives a kind of 
gasp : “ Philip ! ” 

Two minutes afterwards, Chaco standing before her, 
doffs his sombrero and says : “ Dear lady, I have the 
honor to announce you divorced by court-martial ! How 
long will you wear mourning ? ” 


CHAPTER XXVIII. 

“ DEAR ONE, YOU LOOK NOT ON MY DYING FACE ! ” 

But Maud answers this only by a plaintive cry and 
shudders : “ Not now ! Within this hour, I have had a 
lifetime’s suffering. Take me in the house, but don’t let 
them know that Ludenbaum is dead.” 

“ But he is ! ” says Chaco grimly. “ They are burying 
him beneath the big fig tree j ” then suddenly pauses 
and mutters ; “ Dios^ curious how so many women shrink 
at thought of blood.” For the girl has reeled and fallen 
fainting. 

In his arms, as he bears her to the house, her lips are 
at his mercy, but are sacred to him ; for this man has 
the old-fashioned Don Quixote way of regarding the lady 
of his heart. Perchance as he looks upon the wondrous 
loveliness of the fair face and feels the glorious con- 
tours of the exquisite form he carries, the temptation would 
be too great, did not some words murmured hysterically 
reach his ears, that make him shiver and cry out : “ Car- 


JACK CURZON. 


305 


amba / who is this Filipo Marston ? Diablo^ have I another 
man to kill ? ” 

But having aroused the sleepy household, most of 
whom have been awake but have not dared to venture 
out with Spanish troops in sight, and have lain trem- 
blingly in their hammocks, Chaco gives his orders very 
sharply as they come towards him : “ Arouse the sister 
of this lady ; also that German woman ! Tell them to 
revive the mistress of this house. Dona Ludenbaum.” 

“ Her husband, Herr Adolph ? ” questions the Teuton 
governess in sleepy voice, as she comes upon the 
veranda. 

“ Oh, the Dutchman went first to the cock-fight, I be- 
lieve, and from there journeys to San Isidro ; thence 
to Manila. He had a letter, this mercantile man, and 
for a time leaves his bride for care of commerce.” 

“ But the awful noises that I heard } ” asks Mazie, 
getting her sister in her arms. “Those cries, those 
shots ! and Maud fainting ? ” 

“ Ohf/for Dios, we rounded up a Tagal conspirator and 
a Chinese rebel. Did you hear the poor devils crying 
as I gave orders for * '' • ‘ ? Diablo, your sister 



doesn’t love blood 


She fainted when 


she saw me shoot the men. Take good care of Dona 
Maud, Senorita Mazie. Tell her, her most obedient ser- 
vant Roberto Chaco will call to-morrow to ask her com- 
mands and wishes.” 

So with one longing look at his love, whose blue eyes 
have opened dreamily under her sister’s caresses and 
attentions, Chaco mutters : “ Buenas noches, Senoritas,” 
and makes a stiff military bow. A moment later he cries 
to little Zima, who has crept out of some tamarind bushes 
from which she had viewed the doings of the night, 
“ Aqui, Negrita ! Here’s a peso for your swift feet. Come 
hither ! ” 

And the girl going to him as he sits in his saddle he 
leans down and whispers : “ No word of this to any one 
on earth. If you open your mouth Chaco cuts off your 
tongue ! ” and rides away, followed by his men, save some 
half-dozen that he leaves under Corporal Sanchez to keep 
order on the premises. 

The next day Chaco is back again, and striding up to 
the bamboo balcony, finds the widow of his hands looking 
lovely, as all widows should — despite herself 1 For now 


20 


JACK CURZON. 


306 

Maud, having used her beauty to gain her safety from 
one man, sees in it danger from another, and would wish 
to be as ugly in Chaco’s eyes as the veriest hag. Unfor- 
tunately for her, nature and even herself rebel against 
this. Daintily robed in soft white tissues, with anxious 
half-appealing eyes, she looks lovely enough for any man 
to sacrifice upon love's altar. 

Still her words are very grateful. She extends her 
white hand for him to place his lips upon. She murmurs ; 
“ I heard what you said last night to the servants. I 
have acted upon it. I am still considered the wife of 
Ludenbaum, not his widow. I have put that German 
woman in her place. She knows 1 am head of the house- 
hold. I have told her my sister will study with her, but 
not the German language, for I hate its sound. Mazie 
must have something to do to keep her from going crazy. 
She loves an Englishman who has been cut off from her. 
Help me to make the child’s life bearable in this lonely 
place.” 

“ Apropos of love, dear lady,” remarks Chaco, his eyes 
lighting up, “ you answered not my question last even- 
ing. How long do you wear mourning ? ” 

To this covert suggestion, Maud flutters bashfully : “ At 
— at least three months. I should be criticised if I didn’t 
mourn for him for three months after the world knows 
that he is dead ; which must not be immediately.” 

“ Caramba^ why not ? ” 

“ Because neither you nor I dare let the news of this 
man’s death get to Manila. Ludenbaum was all he declared 
himself to be, the friend of the Captain-General, the in- 
timate of all the leading officials of the capital. The Ger- 
man Consul will send up a cry for warships if he knows 
this merchant’s death came by your Spanish firing party. 
It was even as half German agent he imported the arms 
for which you shot him.” 

“ Madre de Dios^ how all nations want the last islands 
left poor Spain,” says Chaco sadly ; then adds : “ No 
breath of this will get to the outside world. I love my 
country too well to bring more misery on her than she 
has with Cuba in rebellion and the accursed Americanos 
plotting to aid it.” With this, he turns his eyes severely 
on a loveliness made piquant by bashfulness and remarks": 
“You in the court-room claimed to be a citizen of that 
infamous republic. Besides it was whispered about the 


JACK CURZON. 


307 


tribunal that you refused to acknowledge Ludenbaum as 
husband because you loved a — a Yankee sea-robber. 
Who is this Filipo Marston, whose name you muttered 
when half insensible last night ? ” 

But here feminine artifice breaks in upon him quite 
haughtily, and astounds the Spanish soldier, who does not 
know woman as well as war. The accused mutters re- 
proachfully : “ You always seem to desire to think me 
unstable in my affections. In the courtroom when you 
saw the forged certificate of marriage, without a question, 
you judged me to be a wife who refused to acknowledge 
her marriage vows. Now you accuse me of loving one 
of the Yankees that you hate.” 

“ Dios mio^ I wish only to think you, miguerida^ a good 
Spaniard, so that I can wear upon my heart a true Spanish 
bride.” His eyes are ardent as red-hot coals. The 
scowl of a jealous Fourteenth-century adoration is on 
his face. 

Gazing on him, the girl realizes that though the German 
no longer stands between her and Phil Marston ; already 
there is another in the Teuton’s place. She knows she has 
received only respite, that she will have another battle 
to reach the arms she loves. 

But Ludenbaum had been a satyr ; Chaco is a knight 
bloodthirsty but chivalrous. He would butcher a rival in 
the lists of the duello with the delight of a bravo, but to 
his lady-love he will be as respectful as a Bayard ; 
though his eyes, full of Spanish ardor, pay her the com- 
pliment of saying he wants her beauties and her graces 
with all the rapidity of a quick campaigner. 

Therefore she goes to temporizing with Chaco, explain- 
ing that it will not be possible for her to wed him save in 
the usual course of things. In a little time Ludenbaum 
will be discovered dead. After a period of mourning 

“ Then you will make me happy ? ” he cries. 

“ I suppose I’ll — I’ll have to,” falters the girl. 

“ Oh, put it not in that way, lady of my heart. Say 
you will be joyous as Chaco when the wedding-bells 
sound, while you stand with me before the priest and give 
me the right to put the kisses on your lips that now I 
place upon your hand.” 

“ Yes, but only place them upon my hand at present. 
Remember I am still the wife of an honored German mer- 
chant.” 


3o8 


JACK CURZON. 


“ Diablo f this is pleasantry and subterfuge ! You and 
I know, dear one of my soul, where we have put the fel- 
low, eh, sweetheart ? Every day I shall say ! ‘ Where is 

Herr Ludenbaum ? ’ and you shall answer : ‘ Dearest 
Roberto, he is dead under the big fig tree,’ eh ? ” 

“ Oh, don’t remind me of that,” gasps Maud. “Every 
moment that fig tree rises before me, until I could shriek 
and fly from this place.” 

“ That’s not the proper feeling for the affianced of a 
Spanish soldier 1" remarks Chaco. “You should love to 
know your enemy is dead. ’Tis a fine feeling. But I 
respect the delicacy of your situation, a wife knowing that 
she is a widow, knowing that she loves another man with 
all her heart and soul, and anxious to break the bonds of 
social formula to throw herself into his arms, sighing each 
day, each hour : ‘ My Chaco, my Roberto, I am held 
from you by imperious fate, but when the time comes, 
for every moment I’ve kept you waiting my kisses shall 
be so much the more passionate, my love so much the 
grander ! ’ ” 

To this fiery proposition Maud thinks it wise to offer 
no dissent. In fact she has little option. She makes 
her arrangements to live at the plantation, as the wife 
of Ludenbaum, writing a few letters even as her husband’s 
amanuensis to his cashier and clerks in Manila. Yet all 
the time she is looking for a face she wants to see, but 
dreads to see, and shudders : “ Chaco, when he and 
Phil meet ! ” 

But thinking the matter over many a long night she 
sighs : “ Of course, Phil will not come, he has read that 

accursed notice in the Diario de Manila. Why should 
he journey to a faithless girl, to the wife of another ma7i I ” 
And so pardoning her lover she grows savage with the 
affianced of her sister, muttering : “ But that shouldn’t 
keep the Englishman from coming. Pha, he dare not 
risk his life to find poor little Mazie, who is crying her 
eyes out and sighing her heart out for Senor Jack 
Curzon.” 

Still this inaction drives Senorita Maud nigh unto mad- 
ness. 

She has made up her mind to tell Chaco she must go 
to Manila, giving some reason of business for the journey, 
when one day late in the second week of May, Providence 
begins to shine once more upon this young lady it has 


JACK CURZON. 


309 


been persecuting ; not with the light rays of genial sun, 
but rather like strokes of forked lightning, each one of 
which makes her reel and quiver, yet places her nearer to 
the man she loves. 

It is on the afternoon of this May day that Chaco rides 
wildly up to the house followed by Sergeant Lopez, who 
is swearing each time he drives his spurs into his pony’s 
sides. The captain astonishes his lady-love by omitting 
to doff his sombrero in old time caballero fashion. His 
eyes are staring and bloodshot. He half reels as he 
springs off his pony, but still flies up to the bamboo bal- 
cony, and bowing before her, mutters in broken voice : 
“Your pardon, Belita, I must take you to Manila ! ” 

“ To Manila ? ” This is a cry of joy. Then the girl 
suddenly whispers : “ Santos, what’s happened ? ” For 
the face of the Spanish warrior is pale under its bronze. 
“ Has Captain-General Augustin dicovered that there 
is ? ” she pauses falteringly. 

“ A dead man under the big fig tree up there, and 
wishes us to answer for our court-martial ? ” he breaks 
out jeeringly ; then suddenly moans, grinding His teeth 
and striding about like a crazy man : Diable, no ! 
Would that it were. O Dios de mi alma, the cursed 
Americanos I ” 

“ The cursed Americanos / What have they done ? ” 

“ Santa Maria t the news has just come by courier 
from Isidro, their fleet is in Manila Bay. They have de- 
stroyed the Spanish squadron under Montojo. They 
have not landed yet, but these barbarians hold Manila at 
the mercy of their murderous cannon.” 

“ Thank God ! ” 

^'Diablo, what did you say, girl?” snarls Chaco in 
awful voice. 

“ I — I said thank God they have not captured Manila 
yet,” mutters Maud, who dare not tell this man of fright- 
ful mien that she is grateful to Heaven with all her heart 
and soul. Then she falters : “ Were many killed ? ” 

“ On our fleet ? Yes, hundreds of gallant fellows who 
fought as they sank beneath the waves.” 

“ Were many killed — upon — the — Yankee — fleet ? ” 
The girl’s voice is slow and harsh in its intensity. 

“ Caramba, millions •' ” 

“ Oh, dear God ! ” 

“ The bay about Cavite' was red with the scoundrels’ 


310 


JACK CURZON. 


blood. But still I can’t understand it. Somehow their 
vessels float and ours have sunk.” 

“ They did it by firing bombs that were filled with 
liquid fire, think of that, noble lady ! ” cries Sergeant 
Lopez. “ The demons, the fiends, the barbarians ! But 
still we’ll brush them off the face of the earth.” 

“ What — what vessels did the work ? ” The girl is 
speaking very slowly. Her eyes have a far away look in 
them. 

“ I don’t know their names. Here is El Comercio. 
Read how our gallant sailors were murdered by improved 
arms and great guns that hit when they were fired,” 
replies Chaco and passes to her the journal. 

Looking over it she sees the names of the Olympia, 
Raleigh — Petrel I 

“ JDios, you’re fainting,” cries the captain, “ at the 
awful blow to Spain. Brave heart, noble lady ; but fear 
not, I, Chaco, will protect you.” 

“ Protect me from what ? ” 

“ Have you not read further, that these Yankee 
ladrones have captured Cavite and have armed Aguinaldo 
whom they brought from Hong Kong. The rebels are 
rising again to strike Spain in her extremity. Our gar- 
risons are all being called into the capital. I have my 
orders. I depart with my men to-night. Lady of my 
heart, I dare not leave you here to the mercy of brutes 
who burn priests.” 

“ Yes, take me to Manila,” begs the girl. “ Dear 
Captain Chaco, take me to Manila ! ” 

But she is really crying: “Take me to the Petrel I 
Take me to Phil Marston, who must have stood upon her 
deck when she destroyed the Spanish squadron ! ” 

“Will not I? Your sister too, and also, I suppose, 
this German woman, who is always asking about Herr 
Ludenbaum.” 

“ Herr Ludenbaum ! ” shudders Maud. “ What shall 
we say of him to his friends and the German Consul 
when we reach Manila ? ” 

“Say of him.?” laughs Chaco, who is more used to 
murderous secrets than the fair girl who is trembling as 
he whispers : “ Pha, that’s an easy lie now ! Say that 
your husband has been lost as he struggled through the 
jungle and the rice swamps escaping from the Rebels. 
If any, in the famine of a blockaded town care to ask of 


JACK CURZON. 


3 “ 


Senor Ludenbaum, we will whisper : ‘ An insurgent 
bullet ! ’ Thousands will die in bush fights on their 
bloody road to the capital. We’ll tell that story of yCf^ar 
departed spouse. You shall enter Manila as a widow — if 
we ever get to the Spanish lines.” 

“ You fear ? ” 

“ Chaco fears for nothing but your safety. He only 
dreads sorrow in your face, nina demis ojos.'^ He kisses 
her hand gallantly. “ But, lady, it will be a desperate 
journey.” 

“ Why so ? ” 

“ Because the nearer garrisons have all been drawn in. 
When we arrive at San Isidro it will be deserted by our 
troops and perhaps occupied by the rebels. Then we 
fight our way to Bulacan ! That may be evacuated also ! 
But never had cahallero fairer lady to protect than I, 
Roberto Dominico Chaco. Whatever befalls him, you, 
mi querida^ mi alma^ mi paloma^ for whom I fight with 
bright sword, shall, while Chaco lives, be safe ! ” 

And right gallantly the Spanish captain keep^ his word. 
That night, mounted on ponies, Maud and her sister and 
the German woman, escorted by Chaco and his hundred 
men, ride through the steep mountain gorge to the great 
plains and from there descend to the banks of the 
Baliuag. 

Here they are delayed collecting boats, but the 
comandante^ by indefatigable exertions and shooting one 
or two lying natives, at last obtains sufficient crafts. 

Embarked on boats and canoes, they drift down the 
river to where the deserted railway running to Dagupan 
crosses it. 

At this point they are joined by some Spanish strag- 
glers. A few words of converse with them and Don 
Roberto coming to his lady-love, whispers : “ These 
men say San Isidro is lost to us, but also report what is 
good news for us. El Corregidor, the friend of Luden- 
baum, he who gave false witness as to your marriage ” 

“ What of him ? ” asks Maud sharply. 

“The rebels finished him three days ago, with some 
other better men.” 

“ Santos, that helps our story as to my — my hus- 
band’s death,” falters the girl, “ if— if we ever reach 
Manila.” 

For now a problem is before them. Shall they take 


312 


JACK CURZON. 


the deserted, destroyed and unused railway track, and by 
it make their way towards the capital, or, journeying down 
t> e Pampanga in their boats, attempt to cross the Bay 
of^ Manila to the blockaded city ? 

Ah ! how Maud tries to persuade the comandante to 
take the chances of Yankee gunboats and steam launches, 
pleading the journey by water will be so much easier for 
her and Mazie. 

But the Spanish captain mutters : “ No, I feel not at 
home upon the waves. I nearly tossed up my soul once 
on a voyage to Mindanao. Besides, it is impossible. 
Their boats, I have news, patrol each night the bay. 
Dios mio^ do you want us to be captured by these Ameri- 
can barbarians ? ” 

So with his men traveling on foot and the ladies upon 
ponies, for Chaco has contrived for their use to bring 
down three of these wiry beasts in a flat-boat, they make 
their way over the long hot miles of the deserted railway 
track, fording streams, the bridges over which have been 
burnt. Then they are compelled to deviate from it, for it 
begins to be occupied by rebels in overpowering numbers. 
They plunge into the jungles and the rice fields. Here 
the poor German governess, driven one night half crazy by 
mosquitoes, wanders away and is found early the next 
morning in a swamp so eaten up by leeches, that they are 
compelled to leave her behind in the care of a group of 
wandering Tinguianes. 

This seems to take a weight off Maud’s mind, for the 
German language shrieked out by this woman in her 
nightly fights with insects has reminded the widow of the 
dead man under the big fig tree, and she hates its gut- 
tural sound. 

After two or three awful days in the heat of the paddy 
swamps, once or twice repulsing small attacks of rebels, 
they finally make their way into Bulacan,to find it evacuated 
by its Spanish garrison. 

Here a fourth of Chaco’s voluntarios desert him, 
Aguinaldo’s proclamation being in full display in this part 
of the country. Desperately he turns towards Malabon, 
journeying by a sneaking night march, for Aguinaldo’s 
soldiers grow more numerous as they near Manila, which 
is now entirely surrounded. 

So at daybreak one morning, Maud from the back of 
her pony, which is cautiously led by her cavalier, gives 


JACK CURZON. 


313 


a little low of joy ; in the dull gray of early morning light 
she can just descern the waters of the Bay. 

Barring their path to safety and the Spanish flag, stands 
only one thin line of rebel soldiers, unsuspecting danger 
in the rear, for Chaco has led his men cautious as snakes 
through the undergrowth. 

Immediately in front of these men the comandante^ 
using his field-glass, sees a breast-work. Above this 
is the Insurgent flag. 

But three hundred yards beyond it is a somewhat 
similar skirmish line, just at the foot of a little hum- 
mock, upon whose summit stands a blockhouse protect- 
ing the first railway station outside of Manila. Above it 
flies Spain’s yellow banner. 

“ Now first to make you safe,” Chaco whispers, “dear 
lady of my heart,” and leads Maud and Mazie on their 
ponies to the protection of some great trees in a little 
ravine, ordering a detail of men to guard them as they 
love their lives, for awful stories have been whispered of 
insurgent barbarities upon women. 

Here taking Maud’s hand, he whispers : When I 

have dispersed that thin line of insurgents, be ready on 
the instant to come with me. I’ll be back to you in five 
minutes, or be in another world. Keep mounted to move 
the instant they are brushed aside ; speed is our only 
hope. If we wait five minutes these murdering Fili- 
pinos will return reinforced and we are destroyed. Now, 
adios^ lady of my love.” 

Waving gallant hand to her he strides off before his 
sixty veterans, twenty of his men having fallen on the 
road from Bulacan, the few Spanish stragglers he has 
picked up have scarce added to his numbers. 

Five minutes after, Maud hears shots and shouts of 
combat, then prolonged volley firing. 

A moment after she gives a cry of joy, for Chaco is in 
front of her with fifty of his men, crying : “ Quick ! These 
devils are brushed aside. Besides our brothers from 
the blockhouse are sallying out to meet us. Presto I 
Come ! ” A drop of blood flows from his mouth at every 
word. 

Santos, you’re wounded!” cries the girl, who has 
grown almost to love this rough and ready soldier, who 
has watched over her with the tenderness of nurse, who 
has treated her with the respect of elder brother, who has 


3^4 


JACK CURZON. 


fought for her with the chivalry of medieval knight — his 
only crime being that he loves her. 

“ Yes, slightly. I — could you walk, dear lady, for the 
sake of one who can walk no more.” 

“Oh, Heavens, they’ll butcher you with their bolas ! ” 
cries Maud. “ Quick, put him in my saddle ! ” I’ll 
lead your pony, Chaco. Hold him up, men ! Now 
come ! ” and for a moment the maid is leader of the party. 
Guided by old Sergeant Lopez they run the rebel lines 
from which Aguinaldo’s men have been brushed aside by 
this unexpected attack — but only for a moment. 

Two companies of Catalonian infantry sally forth from 
the blockhouse to assist them, and in five minutes they 
are all inside the intrenchments of Manila. The wounded 
Spanish warrior looks upon the banner floating over him, 
and whispers : “ Dear one, you’re safe under the flag of 
Spain, the flag of civilization and advancement, the flag 
of our Church, the only flag fit to — to die under!” He 
reels in his saddle and they lift him from the pony to 
the ground. 

Half drowning his whispers is the rattle of more rifles 
and heavy volley firing at the front, and his men, called 
by the Spanish officers, run off to repel the charge of the 
insurgents. 

So in the beautiful tropic foliage that here fringes the 
white sand of the beach, Maud kneeling down cries : 
'•'‘Aydemi! God help us, Mazie, we must staunch the 
blood in someway,” and takes her wounded soldier’s head 
upon her lap. 

“ Water I ” he gasps, “ and — and a priest ! ” and Mazie 
flies away to seek them both. 

Even as she holds Chaco’s fainting body, before Maud 
are the rippling waves of the Bay of Manila bright in 
the sun that is rising over the Cordilleras. Upon it, 
some mile away, is a little gunboat, its foremast square 
rigged, its main and mizzen carrying fore and aft canvas. 
A flag of stars and stripes is floating from her peak. 
Photographs of his vessel sent her by her sweetheart 
flit through the girl’s mind. She gasps : “ The Petrel I ” 
and her eyes devour it as if she would *draw it to her 
arms. 

The dying man whose head is in her lap gazes up at 
her and murmurs, a strange pathos in his voice : “ Dear 
one, you look not at my face.” 


JACK CURZON. 3 1 5 

Yes — she says abstractedly — her eyes caressing 
the distant vessel. 

“ You look not at me. You listen not to my lips when 
they speak their last words to you.’^ 

“ Oh, not your last words, dear Chaco ! ” screams the 
girl. 

“ My very last — upon this earth. Dear love, you must 
protect yourself from the death of that villain. Here is 
a statement on my breast written and sworn to by me, 
subscribed to by the corporal and the sergeant, stating 
how I executed Herr Adolph Ludenbaum after honorable 
drumhead had made quick sentence upon him, together 
with the documentary evidence that caused the doom of 
a scoundrel who called you wife — a dear title — I — 1 shall 
never give you — my beauty, my bird of Paradise ! This 
document will protect you from Spanish law. It is the 
best that I, a dying man, can do for you. Dear — you look 
not on my face — your eyes are upon the vessel of my 
enemies. You think not of what I say.” ^ 

“I do ! Chaco, I do ! I know you have been true to 
me as ever knight was to lady of his love,” sobs Maud. 

“ Then place the Cross of Christ upon my lips and 
now your own. Kiss me as — as I die.” 

And the girl bending down to him thinks : “ The man 
upon that deck would forgive me kissing this dying man 
who saved me, that I may come to him the same Maud 
Gordon who left his arms.” 

With the thought, she places her lips upon the cold 
ones of the dying Spaniard, who shivers a little and mut- 
ters : “ Your eyes are not on me. They are on that ac- 
cursed Yankee ship. Santa Maria ! Is he there ? the 
man whose name you uttered on that night I killed the 
German who would have dishonored you — the man, O 
— THAT YOU LOVE ? ” and sighing dies within her 

arms. 


3i6 


JACK CURZON. 


BOOK V. 

THE SPOILS OF VICTORY. 

CHAPTER XXIX. 

THE FILIPINO WEDDING. 

(Taken from the Records of fohn Talboys Curzon, late interpreter 
of Dewey's Squadron.) 

Ir is the end of Spain in the Philippines. From its 
flagstaff on the Luneta battery, the yellow flag of Castile 
is floating down forever ; the American stars and stripes 
are going up forever ! 

As the banner reaches its pinnacle and blows out upon 
the breeze, the sun bursts out upon it, and halos it. Then 
from Dewey’s fleet comes, peal on peal, the national salute 
saying : “ This is Yankeeland !” Spanish women are sob- 
bing, heart-broken, and many an hidalgo has turned 
away to hide the agony upon his face. 

There is a howling screaming : “ Hurrah ! ” from the 
landing party of blue jackets mixed with army officers. 
The band of the Second Oregon, led by its fat bandmaster, 
is coming up the beach playing “ There’ll be a hot time in 
the old town to-night.” Seeing the flag, it pauses as if 
electrified and breaks into the “ Star Spangled Banner.” 

The roll of drums and distant cheering proclaim 
Greene’s division is marching up the Calk Real to the 
cross the Puente de Espafia to the Binondo and brush out 
of the suburbs the looting parties of Aguinaldo’s men 
already striving to enter it. 

Into the crowd before the Luneta flag-staff, an Ilocos- 
boy comes running, screaming : “ Where him — Admiral 
Dewey ? ” 

The Americans break into laughter. 

“ A letter ! ” He holds it up. “ Admiral Dewey give 
him to officer of Petr el I'* 

“ I am one of the officers of the Petreip cries Marston, 
shouldering his way through the crowd and seizing it •, 


JACK CURZON. 317 

the ensign having got permission to come on shore with 
the first landing party. 

Half crazy about what may have been Mazie’s fate, I 
am with him ; for by this time I am pretty sure she is in 
Manila with her sister. Some news of this having drifted 
to me from the English Consul's messengers, though, 
try how I will, I have been unable to get more definite 
information, the little communication which has taken 
place between our fleet and the city having been entirely 
by the various Consuls, and only on official matters. 
Still I have picked up from Jimmie Budlong that Dona 
Ludenbaum and her sister have reached Manila in safety. 

Probably it is some lingering fondness for his lost love 
that makes Marston so anxious to get on shore. 

Glancing at the writing on the envelope and crushing 
it in his hand, he mutters to me : “Jack, it’s for me — 
from her I By Heaven, she’s got the nerve to write 
to me ! ” 

“ For God’s sake, don’t tear it up ! ” I gasp, for he has 
made an angry gesture as if to destroy the letter. “ Read 
it ! ” 

The American’s eyes devour a note in Maud’s pretty 
handwriting, yet he shudders as he reads the signature. 
But being anxious about my own affair, I ask eagerly : 
“Mazie?” 

“ Oh — ah — yes ; Mazie ! ” murmurs Phil. “ This note 
says her sister is with her, and begs me to write to you if 
I know where you are. It asks me to come to her. It 
is signed Dona Ludenbaum.” He shivers as he grinds 
out the name. 

“ Mazie, where is she ? ” 

“In their old home, she says, on the Calzada San 
Miguel. That suburb will be open to us Americans in 
an hour or two. Greene’s division are passing the 
Puente de Espana even now.” 

“ You’re coming } ” I whisper. 

“ Why should I ? She is the wife of Ludenbaum. 
She was his wife when she stole my heart from me.” 

“ I can’t believe it,” I say. 

“Neither could I. No other hand than hers could 
make me think it possible ; but here’s her accursed signa- 
ture. What’s the good of opening my wound again. 
I have suffered enough. I look no more upon her face.” 

“ Rats ! ” I cry, having on the American fleet acquired 


JACK CURZON. 


a good stock of Yankee slang. “You could no more 
keep away from her than a bear can from honey.” 

But Phil pays no heed to my sneer, he is questioning 
the boy in a nervous eager way. “ The lady who gave 
you this, are you her servant ? ” 

“ St! Dona Ludenbaum’s data I ” 

“ Her husband ? ” 

“ No husband ! ” 

“ No husband ! What do you mean ? ” 

“ Him dead ! Aguinaldo’s men kill him when him try 
to go to Binondo.” 

“ Dead } A widow ! By the Lord Harry, I am going 
to have a flirtation with a widow. A pretty widow is 
writing me billet-doux.” Marston grinds this out with 
unnatural jeer. “ A widow ! ” 

“ But her sister, the Senorita Mazie, she is well ? ” As I 
ask this I grab the boy. 

“ Who you ? ” 

“ Is there any letter for me. Jack Curzon ? ” 

“ Why should there be } ” interjects Phil. “ Maud — 
I mean Dona — curse the name, it chokes me — supposes 
you are in Hong Kong. How should she guess you 
were on the American fleet. It’s natural for me to be 
here ; natural for widows to want to flirt ; natural — Here 
boy, take this peso, and tell the lady we’ll be there as 
soon as our troops have occupied that suburb.” 

Then tears come to the poor fellow’s eyes. He half 
reels, grabs my hand and falters : “ My God, what a 
meeting ! Did I ever fancy when she left me that I 
should greet my — my sweetheart whom I thought true as 
the compass — a/Ur she had been another’s ? ” Then he 
breaks out into a kind of laughing snarling scoff : “ A 
widow, a pretty widow, a damned alluring widow ! Maud 
— Oh God of Heaven ! ” 

Muttering he strides through the crowd and over part 
of it, who greet his trampling feet with sullen “ Carrajos I ” 
though they try to smile, deeming it wise to be polite to 
the conquering Americano. 

As I walk after him I can’t help pitying this broken 
young sailor whom his mess-mates tell me was once the 
light heart of the ship. Struck down by the letter signed 
Maud Ludenbaum, Phil Marston has recovered very 
slowly from the blow received from a woman’s pen. The 
hot days had kept him back ; when we had been penned 


JACK CURZON. 


319 


on shipboard — doing the most tedious duty naval-tactics 
prescribe— guarding a town that dared not fire an angry 
gun at us, a city waiting to be taken. 

For from the day he sank the Spanish fleet, Manila lay 
at Dewey’s mercy ; though he dared not occupy it, lack- 
ing troops to police the hapless capital from marauders 
within or to guard it from insurgents without. 

Therefore we had waited until the troops came, but 
all of us knew the anxiety on the Admiral’s face was put 
there by something beyond mere lack of troops — the 
neutral German ! For Dewey, though promised the 
Oregon by his government, had no armored vessel in 
his fleet of cruisers to pit against the iron-clad flagship 
of Admiral Von Diederichs who under commands, 
probably from his put-your-hands-in-everybody’s-pie 
Kaiser, was doing things that were nigh unto making 
war upon us. 

But one day, about the time the last of the troops 
arrived, I chance to see the American commander 
pacing the deck of the Olympia, throw up his hat in the 
air. The anxious look passes from his face. The strain 
of months is gone. The Monterey even in a gale that 
stayed the troop transports, with Carlin, the hero of 
Samoa, pacing her bridge as her executive officer, 
thumping through the water, is passing Corregidor. 
Dewey has one iron-clad at last ! In the waters of this 
bay that low floating monitor with her heavy guns and 
massive armor, with nothing to shoot at, and lots to 
shoot, is more than a match for any battle-ship afloat. 

So the American admiral gives notice to the foreign 
squadrons he wants their anchorage for his operations, 
and the French and German ships move sullenly to the 
other side of the bay, and the English and Japanese, 
God bless them ! come sailing our way. 

The fight is on and we close in upon the Spanish bat- 
teries, while, farther up the bay, with guns ready as per 
announcement for the Luneta batteries, but really ready 
for the German if he dares say “ Boo ! ” to us, is the 
swimming low like a bulldog with the longest 
kind of teeth. For this day I believe many American 
officers would sooner turn their guns upon the Kaiser’s 
flag than upon the Spanish. 

But no Foreign power says “ Boo ! ” and the Spanish 
say : “Surrender ! ” and we are on shore ; and Greene's 


320 


JACK CURZON. 


division ot hardy regulars and gallant western volun- 
teers are crossing the Puente de Espana, as Phil and I 
join the staff of the First California regiment, the 
Colonel of which very politely proffers us his escort. 

Where the Puente de Espana crosses the Pasig a 
band of Aguinaldo’s rebels have been brushed aside. 
An Insurgent officer standing among them signals me 
with his sword, but is warned away by the guard. 

I give a cry as I recognize Ata Tonga. Beside him, 
a Chinaman is jabbering at me and signaling wildly. 

I beg the Colonel to halt. 

But there is no chance of this. The orders are : 
“ Cross the bridges quick / Garrison the Binondo ! Patrol 
the suburbs ! ” for the rebels who expect this day to 
plunder the rich city, are breaking in towards the north. 

However the news I want, is best and sweetest from 
the lips of her I love. So I hurry on. 

Across the bridge part of the column halts. The 
Deputy provost-marshal of Greene’s division, as he 
scribbles passes for Phil and me say.s, in fluent Western 
lingo: “Gentlemen, you had better hold your bosses 
just a little. There’s trouble at Sampalog, and a wing 
of the First California is ordered up there ! ’’ 

On the Escolta, a few companies of the First California 
and Eighteenth Regulars, permitted tO/sit down — after 
the hot march, go to smoking the cigarettes and cigars 
that are showered upon them by the Filipinos anxious 
to make friends of their deliverers and let them know 
that the tobacco of Cagayan rivals the leaf of the Vuelia- 
abajo. 

After three impatient hours I give a cry. “By 
George ! the tram cars are running again ! ” 

Gazing at this a stalwart Irishman, Sergeant Tim 
Maloney of the First California, growls: “Did ye 
ever see the like, boys ! Begorrah, in good old toimes 
we’d be plundering the treasures and capturing the 
purty gurls right and left. Bad cess to modern war. 
We’re kilt just the same, but where the divil are the 
pleasures of victory ! No looting, no ladies ! ” 

As he complains, a pretty Filipina girl trips to the 
gallant Sergeant and offers him a lot of cigars. 

“ Will I take ’em } Shure, an’ I will, bless yer purty 
face! Do I spake Spanish.? No, but ye shall teach me, 
acushla ! ” And the amorous Sergeant, as he gazes upon 


JACK CURZON. 


321 


the bright eyes and lithe figure of Miss Filipina, has a 
look on his martial face that would doubtless get it 
smashed if a certain stalwart Bridget Maloney, who 
tends his offspring on Fourth Street in distant San 
Francisco, could get sight of it. 

Gazing at this Phil mutters : “Sergeant, what do you 
call this now ? ” 

“ Begorrah ! ” He gives Miss Filipina a sounding kiss. 
“ Thase are the joys of pace ! ” 

As we jump on the first car for the San Miguel sub- 
urb the men are screaming with laughter, at their 
gallant non-commissioned officer. A wing of the First 
California is already ahead of us. The place is as 
peaceful as if there had been no war. 

So about five o’clock this evening, I lead Phil Marston 
into the well-known garden and look up at the old 
house. Little Zima is in the garden watching. She 
cries : “Senoritas ! Englishman s here ! ” 

Then to me comes a scream: “Jack! Aquil 
Pronto r* Little Mazie has flown down the big stair- 
case and is in my arms. My parting with her seems 
as yesterday. 

As I gaze into her eyes, the past seems to float away. 
But between kisses I contrive to whisper : “Your 
sister, where is she.? This is my friend, Phil Marston.’^ 

“Yes, I know the gentleman, by sight,’’ laughs 
Mazie. “ I have seen his photograph, ” adding archly 
“Maud I believe wishes to see him.” 

“Why did she not come out with you ? ” 

“ I think she is afraid to meet him.” 

“She well may be 1 ” mutters Phil hoarsely. 

“ She well may not be ! ” cries Mazie savagely. ‘ ‘ And 
don’t you go in to her with that face, Seuor Ensign. 
She has suffered more than most women could and 
live — for you 1 ” 

“For me? Oho!” this is a horrible chuckle. 
“That’s a yarn with which to floor a horse-marine I ” 

But here a voice breaks in upon us that makes Mars- 
on start and tremble. 

“ Phil ! ” 

“ Maud ! ” Despite himself this is a cry of longing 
love from the American. The young man turns towards 
the widow of his enemy and gazes at her. 

I looking likewise, see a picture that makes me jump : 
21 


322 


JACK CURZON. 


A lovely face etherealized by the sufferings of a tortured 
love, by the anxieties of a beleaguered city, by the care of 
a younger sister, made bright as the sun in Heaven now 
by a rapture that cannot be fought down. 

She murmurs : “ Phil, come to me ! Let me tell you 
what I have endured to return the self-same girl who left 
your arms ! ” 

“ The self-same girl ? When you have wedded and 
been widowed also ! ” answers the American very sorrow- 
fully, yet very sternly. Then he breaks out at her : 
“ Hang it, I’m no sea-lawyer, but I’m not fool enough to 
think, because he’s dead, Husband Ludenbaum’s a 
myth.” 

“ Phil ! ” She wrings her hands in a kind of desperate 
agony. 

For one moment he seems to hesitate. 

“Phil!” she cries harshly, commandingly, “come 
here and listen to my tale I Then, if you don’t believe it 
strongly enough to take me in your arms and know I am 
the same girl that left them, you are not worthy of me. 
Do you hear that, Philip Marston ! ” 

Now this attack from a widow whom he had expected 
to be as Rachel to his reproaches, seems to confuse the 
American Ensign, who is used to war, but not such war 
as this. Where he had imagined the white flag, the 
smothered sigh, a muttered “ Forgive me, darling, I — 
O Dios^ they — they made me — I couldn’t help it ! ” and 
tears ad libitum; he sees a goddess dominating, com- 
manding, a widow looking immaculate as a vestal and 
virgin as an Amazon, who waves to him an arm beautiful 
as Aphrodite’s as it glistens snowy from out the black 
gauzes that drape the figure of a Hebe with Diana’s eyes. 

“ Come if you did not lie to me when you said you loved 
me 1 Come if you love me now ! ” she cries command- 
ingly, savagelj, alluringly. “ It is your last chance to beg 
my pardon ! ” 

“ Maud ! ” falters the fellow who has raised his eyes to 
hers, and having caught glimpse of her beauty, seems 
mesmerized by the entrancing vision. He springs up the 
stairs, and whispers: “You — you dare to assume the 
injured role ; you who have broken my heart ! ” 

“ Broken your heart ! Hear my tale and see if I have 
broken your heart ? ” 

“ Why not ? I have read the Diario de Manila ! ” 


JACK CURZON. 


323 


“ Santa Maria I You believed a newspaper lie ! ” 

“ No, I did not ! I told Curzon I’d swallow that tale 
when the world turned upside down.” 

“ God bless you, darling ! ” Tears have got into the 
girl’s eyes. 

“ But I did believe your own handwriting in the letter 
to the cashier of your damned husband. You signed your- 
self his wife ! That struck me down, the only American 
who fell upon the day of battle.” 

“ Ah, you have suffered ! God bless you for suffering ! 
God let me repay you ! Come in ! ” falters Maud ; then 
she cries in savage tenderness : “ No, don’t dare to kiss 
me first! Listen ! Believe and kiss me afterward! ” 

But what lover cares for other' lover’s rigmarole of 
foolish love. What interest have I in Phil Marston and a 
witch of a widow who is twisting him round her pretty 
finger ? I, who have got Mazie in my arms deep in the 
banana thicket, away from the eyes of all, save 4;he little 
birds. She is telling me what she suffered for me and 
laughing and crying and kissing ; and so am I. 

In such exercise time passes very rapidly. 

“ Where the deuce are you ? ” cries Marston coming 
down the path from the house. He catches sight of me. 
“ Oh, ah ! By Jove ! ” 

“ Well ? ” I say, savage at the interruption, though it 
is growing dark. 

“ Well ; I’ve just heard the darndest yarn to which ever 
mortal man listened.” 

“ You don’t believe her ? ” screams Mazie, flying up. 
“ Dios mio^ idiot Yankee, you’re not worthy of her ! ” 

“Of course, I’m not worthy of her, but I marry her 
next week ! And you — you landlubber ? ” he turns on me. 

“ I had forgotten to speak about the—the wedding 
day,” I stammer. 

“What! With such a little beauty? O, my poor 
little future sister-in-law ! Perhaps he hasn’t kissed you 
yet. Take this from brother-in-law to keep you going I ” 

But the sweet voice of the lady of the house is saying : 
“Jack, bring Mazie up. Phil, we have got some pro- 
visions left, notwithstanding the blockade. Come in to 
supper ! You always had a sailor’s appetite.” 

Then we stroll up and make a quiet family party, in 
this city taken by assault this day. 

There are a few shots heard farther up the Pasig. But 


324 


JACK CURZON. 


we know American bayonets are between us and Agui- 
naldo’s looting rebels. 

Maud is saying : “ There is no need of duenna now. 
A widow, of course can take charge of her younger 
sister.” She steals a coquettish though apologetic 
glance at Phil, who chews his mustache savagely at 
the suggestion of his coming bride’s widowhood. 

So after a little we leave our darlings, blessing God 
that they are under the American flag, and feeling very 
safe, now California volunteers are patroling the Calzada 
San Miguel. 

Soon it goes out through fleet and army that the first 
social function in the new American city will be the 
wedding of Philip Preble Marston of the U. S. Navy 
and Dona Maud Ysabel Ludenbaum, the relict of the 
late Don Adolph Ludenbaum ; also Senorita Mazie Inez 
Gordon to John Talboys Curzon, who has given up the 
profession of arms and is now installed as head of the 
local branch of Martin, Thompson & Co., rather to the 
disgust of Jimmie Budlong who has to vacate the w'ell 
worn arm-chair behind the desk in the private office. 

But Jimmie is quite contented, as I tell him that I 
shan’t stay long with Martin, Thompson & Co. 

“Yes, by Jove! you’ll soon have too much money,” 
laughs my bright clerk. “ Old Ludy was a smart one as 
guardian of Senorita Mazie. He did what her father 
Gordon should have done ten years ago, compromised 
with the Spanish officials. A little cash was all they 
v/anted.” To this he adds consideringly: “ By George, 
old fellow, you’ve got nerve ! ” 

“ Why so ? ” 

“ Marrying into ‘Bully’ Gordon’s family ! Not that 
your little girl isn’t sweet-tempered as an angel — but the 
elder sister ! By Jove, there’s a German woman who’s 
just come into fown through the rebel lines who hints 
that on the very day she was declared his wife, Maud did 
old Ludenbaum up in great shape with a carving knife 
in the recesses of the Caraballo mountains.” 

“ Stuff I Nonsense I ” I cry. “ If you tell such stories, 
Jimmie, I shan’t invite you to the wedding.” 

“ I’m not telling them ; but over the way there old Lu~ 
denbaum’s placid-mannered cashier is weeping for his 
butchered master. He has told the tale to the German 
Consul, Kruger and they are both going about like chick- 


JACK CURZON. 


325 


ens with their heads cut off. They’ve got you and a 
Chinaman and a Katipunan mixed up in the affair too in 
some way.” 

“Have they?” I mutter savagely. “We’ll soon shut 
the German up. It has been done before in this harbor.” 

“ Well, there won’t be any trouble for you or for her 
under the American rule. By-gones will be by-gones,” 
answers Jimmie. “ I believe Dewey likes the English.” 

“ Yes, they’ve done him a very good turn here, haven’t 
they ? ” I say, thinking of the words of Captain Chichester 
of the English cruiser Immot'talite which had blocked 
German intervention. ^ 

With this I stroll out into the town which has already 
become considerably Americanized. Officers of Western 
Volunteers are doing the polite on the Luneta and Malceon 
to pretty Filipina girls, every man of them learning 
Spanish with accents varying according to the lady teach- 
ing him. The priests knowing, now, they are as safe under 
the American flag as under the Spanish, are walking the 
Calle Real 2iS m days of yore. The Escolta is as busy 
and as bright as it was before ; only there is a mixture of 
Anglo-Saxon, Western Yankees in brown uniforms jostle 
Hidalgo-Spaniards in the white drill suits of the tropics. 

During this time. Ah Khy has ventured in from the 
insurgent lines. In my private office where he brings 
Ata Tonga, who is now a colonel of Aguinaldo, he con- 
fides to me the details of an affair of which Doiia Luden- 
baum had never spoken, and I understand the reason of 
the German woman’s suspicions. 

“ I suppose the fate of Ludenbaum will set you right 
with your father whom you’ve avenged,” I remark. 

“ By Josh ! I am at the top of the heap with Hen 
Chick now,” laughs Khy. “.The old boy would honor 
my draft for a hundred thousand taels, since I’ve finished 
his vendetta. But what’s money when you’re lonely. If 
I could only get into society. Damn it, Curzon, you prom- 
ised you’d put me in English society.” 

“ I’ll give you a chance at it, ” I laugh. “ Supposing you 
act as master of ceremonies at my wedding.” 

“ Done ! I’ve got a new dress suit of Bell & Co.’s of 
Fifth Avenue, that’ll beat the band, and I’ve never had a 
chance to display it ! I’ll give you the greatest send-off 
that has ever taken place in the Philippines. Watch me ! 
Y — A — L — E. — YALE ! ” and the Chinaman goes off as 


326 JACK CURZON. 

excited as if he were at one of his college football games, 
in which he was never permitted to play. 

Turning to the Tagal I remark : “ Are you going back to 
Aguinaldo, Ata ? ** 

“ Santos / I can answer that question by asking an- 
other. Is America going to give the Philippines back to 
Spain } If so, I go back to my Filipinos and fight to the 
death. Are the Yankees going to keep these islands and 
try to give us a decent government, and every man his 
chance in life ? ” 

“ I think the latter,” I say. 

“ In that case I am American ! ” Then he continues 
anxiously: “ This Yankee officer who has been selected 
by my mistress of rose breath, for the honor of her hand. 
Is he worthy of her ? 

“ If any man is ! ” 

“ Ah, then he must be a good man.” 

And Marston happening to drop in, the Tagal speaks 
to him, saying : “ You smell true ! But remember, he 
whom my mistress of the breath of wild roses chooses to 
be her lord, must be a great man. See that you live up 
to the grandeur of your lot ! ” 

“ 111 try to, my noble savage,” replies Phil modestly. 
Though most of the time he has a very wry face upon 
him, for the word has gone about both fleet and army 
that Phil Marston, though he weds a widow^ had been 
engaged to be married to a girl. 

Still I imagine, he must have some hint of the true 
status of his bride, for once I see him driving out with 
his sweetheart, to inspect upon the beach, up the Malabon 
way, a little white monument Maud has erected just where 
the glistening sand joins the feathery green of the bam- 
boos, upon which can be read : 


Sacred to the Memory of 
DON ROBERTO DOMINICO CHACO 
The Last of the Conquistadores 
Who loved like a Knight of old. 


Then at last, the evening comes ! 

The big house on the Calzada San Miguel is lighted 


JACK CURZON. 


327 


up. The grounds are aflame with a thousand Chinese 
lanterns. Ah Khy has seen to that. Gathered about 
the house and garden are half the pretty girls in Manila, 
a goodly portion of the foreign colony, a detail of 
bachelors from the English Club, a big sprinkling of the 
American army and navy, half the young Filipinos in 
town whom Augustin has let live, and even a few Span- 
iards who drop in to do homage to their conqueror ; for 
a very great sailor has kindly given us the light of his 
presence ; Admiral Dewey considering this, the first nup- 
tials of the colony to the mother country worthy 'of his 
attention, for more than social reasons, I believe. 

So to the strains of the wedding march struck up at 
Ah Khy’s signal by the biggest kind of Filipino band 
perched on the balcony amid the palm trees, two young 
ladies looking like fairies in bridal robes of white pina 
gauzes, French laces and floating ribbons, with orange 
blossoms in their flowing locks, one standing beside Phil 
Marston, the other at my left hand, are fronted by Padre 
de Laviga ; dispensation having been very easy, the church 
wishing to be friendly with the conquering Americanos. 

To the questions put to us, I and Mazie make reply, 
and are declared man and wife by ceremony of the Cath- 
olic Church. 

But sensation comes upon us as the Padre asks : “ Do 
you, Maud Ysabel Ludenbaum, take this man ? ” for the 
bride holding up a gleaming arm cries : “ Stop ! ” and a 
quiver runs through the assemblage at this astounding 
interruption. 

But the girl goes on in ringing voice : “ I, Maud 
Gordon, take this man ! Let it be said in that way, for I 
never was wed to other man and have no right to name 
of other man ! The decree of the court at Carranglan 
upon this document forged on its face, and the evidence 
connecting me with it false ! My so-called husband de- 
creed me by court was within four hours divorced from 
me by military execution, a court-martial having been 
called upon him for furnishing arms to the insurgents by 
one Captain Chaco, commander at Carranglan. The 
documents proving these things are in my hands await- 
ing the demand of the proper authorities. So, as girl 
unwed I, Maud Ysabe'l Gordon, take this man for my dear 
husband ! ” 

Gad, how Phil’s eyes blaze with love and reverence as 


JACK CURZON. 


328 

he listens to his bride. His answers come sharp and 
strong as a rapid-fire gun, and at the close when his ring 
is on her fair finger, I hear him whisper as he places hus- 
band’s kiss upon her lips : “ God bless you for squaring 
me with the boys ! They thought I was marrying a — a 
real widow.” 

At this Maud gets as red as fire. She turns hastily to 
greet the representative of the governing power of the 
United States, the great admiral who is stepping up to 
congratulate the happy couple. 

Just here that mischievous devil. Captain Sam Eustace 
of the First Nebraska, cries from behind : “ Hobson got 
a kiss in New York ! ” 

“ What’s the matter with Dewey ? ” laughs rollicking 
Bill Goring of the Colorado troops. 

Great captains are always gallant to the ladies, and 
as the bride with enchanting gesture and ravishing blush 
responds to the suggestion, she gets such a whole-souled 
sailor’s salute, that Paymaster Milbank says it means at 
least two months’ leave for the groom. Though I think 
with new husband’s jealousy that sweet little Mazie, whose 
arch beauties make her popular as a sylph, gets the great 
man’s tenderest buss. Anyway I am sure she deserves it. 

But now everybody’s hands are held out to us } I find 
myself saluting little Cabalo of Imus, Tommie Simpson 
of the English Consulate and Kellogg of the Baltimore 
with one hand ; while Plunkett of the Petrel^ and Brigham 
Taylor of the Utah battery are shaking the other. 

Then the wine begins to flow, and the band begins to 
play, and the boys and girls begin to dance. Ah Khy, 
whose dress suit can give cards and spades to any other 
dress suit in the room, is footing it, by Heaven ! with 
Phil’s bride, who has given him her hand very sweetly. 

Looking at this from the balcony outside, Sergeant 
Maloney, who with a squad of the First California, is 
drinking everybody’s health in champagne and doing 
guard duty at the same time, it having been deemed wise 
to have a detail of soldiers about the first semi-public 
entertainment under the new Yankee rule, remarks in his 
blundering Irish way : ‘i Begob, they say his ividence kilt 
her fust husband. No wonder the widder is grateful to 
the Heathen. Shure, ave the Chinee cut off his tail, he 
might be mistook fer a Jap and a gint ! ” 

Supper is just finished when into this jubilee strides 


JACK CURZON. 


329 


Ata Tonga, who is acting as major domo in his dignified 
Indian way. He passes to Phil’s bride, and whispers : 
“ Lady of my devotion, by Cambunian, he’s alive ! I 
smell his viper stink coming up the stairway.” 

“ Ludenbaum ? ” gasps the bride. Madre de Dios I ” 

“ No ; otherwise I would have knifed him first and told 
you afterwards. El Corregidor, whom you said was 
dead.” 

At this, Mazie standing by, turns pale and clutches my 
arm. 

“ Impossible,” mutters Maud, “ Chaco reported Don 
Rafadl dead.” 

“ Pha, trust my nose before all reports. Here he is ! ” 
And sure epough Don Rafael is about to come mincing in. 

But he never gets further than the balcony. Khy with 
Chinese tact has tipped Malony and the sergeant is say- 
ing : “ Ave yese a card ” 

“ No, Senor, I only arrived in town by boat from Pam- 
pangas half an hour ago. This is the entertainment of 
my friend Herr Adolph Ludenbaum,” replies the Cor- 
regidor. “ Admit me at once ! ” Then chancing to glance 
at Mazie, and noting the orange flowers in her hair, and 
me standing beside her, his face grows sickly. 

But the sergeant being a brisk man, says sharply : 
“ Mistook ! Your crony, Ludenbaum’s kilt and planted ! ” 

“ Santa Maria f ” 

“This is the house of Phil Marston of the U. S. Navy 
who’s jist got hitched to Dona Ludenbaum. Begob, 
there’s her sister who’s jist got spliced to Jack Curzon ! ” 

“ Carramba^ it’s impossible ! Carrajo / Diablo ! 
You are lying to me ! ” 

“Howly Moses, a Grazer calls me a liar!” Biff! 
“ Take him away ! ” 

I hear sounds of combat in the distance, mingled with 
some yells from horse-boys and coachmen in attendance 
in the garden below ; and an officer asking Malony about 
the matter, he promptly reports : “ One of Aguinaldo’s 
divils putting on airs! But I smashed the Dago into next 
week and threw out what was left of him ! ” 

This affair gets however little attention ; for about this 
time Major Wharton of the Regulars and Burton of the 
Raleigh heading the rest of the boys are leading the girls 
out for a good old-fashioned Virginia reel, which they 
teach to laughing Filipina belles whose twinkling feet 


330 


JACK CURZON. 


flash in and out fronfi under the gauzes of their pina skirts 
as they trip upon the polished floors. 

Taking advantage of the hurrah, Phil gives me a pinch. 
Together we take our brides and sneak down the stairs, 
for we have secured two pretty little villas out in Ermita 
— where the sea breezes blow amid the palms and bam- 
boos — for honeymoon retirement. 

Two carriages await us, a little apart from the throng 
of vehicles. 

As Phil holds the door open and Maud gathers the 
laces of her wedding robe about fairy ankles to step into 
one, and I am assisting Mazie into the other, Sergeant 
Malony, gazing on us, says to his squad, who are still 
ready with champagne bottles : “ Drink the brides" 

health agin, lads. Tare ’an ages. I’ve a conundrum for 
yase — Why are thase beautious brides loike thase same 
blessed Dewey Islands?” 

“ Because they’ll be almighty ticklish critters to handle,” 
grins his Yankee Corporal. 

At this Mazie gives a little giggle. 

“ Out upon ye, for a non-expan sive Harvard Professor 
— Divil take ye, yer making the bride blush. Ther 
raison these darlints are loike thase same blessed Dewey 
Islands is, bedad, because the German wanted ’em and 
couldn’t get ’em ! Drink ! ” 

Catching this precious oration, the great man of the 
war, who is just stepping into his carriage, bursts out 
laughing. 

But what do I care for politics, conquest and glory — 
I who have love before me! I step into my carriage 
where a little fluttering beauty gathers in her gauzes to 
make room for Senor Jack Curzon. 


FINIS. 


APPENDIX. 


APPENDIX. 

ON THE WONDERFUL POWER OF SCENT IN SOME OF THE 
TAGAL TRIBES. 

The acuteness of this sense of smell in certain of the 
Tagal tribes has been noted by Bowring, Foreman and all 
other trayelers who have visited the interior of the 
Philippines. Bowring states that certain of the Tagals 
can discover, not only their masters and their mistresses 
as dogs do, but even carry their sense so far as to de- 
termine the affections of other people to them. 

This sense, though probably more developed in certain 
tribes of the Island of Luzon than in any others, is also 
noticeable in other savage races; Humboldt stating that 
Peruvian Indians are able to distinguish by their noses, 
in the middle of the night, whether an approaching 
stranger is a European, American-Indian or Negro. 

The peculiar acuteness of this sense in some of the 
mountain tribes of Tagals is so great that it is said the 
appearance of the nose itself is somewhat different to that 
usual in the human race, the nostrils having such power 
of dilation and expansion that in action they make long- 
drawn lines upon the cheeks reaching to the eyes. 

A well known London physician who has spent many 
years in the Island of Luzon, says of this in the New 
York Sun Oct. i6, 1898 : 

“ So keen is the sense of smell among the Filipinos that 
they say they can tell to whom any article belongs by 
merely smelling of it. There is a peculiar manner of 
kissing in vogue among many of these tribes. Instead of 
touching lips they press the nose against the cheek of 
the person they wish to caress and draw a long, deep 
breath.” — E d. 

This delicacy of scent can also be cultivated in the 
Caucassian race. 

“A boy, James Mitchell, was born blind, deaf and 
dumb, and chiefly depended on smell for his connection 
with the outer world. He readily observed the presence 


11 


APPENDIX. 


of a Stranger in the room and formed his opinions of 
persons by their characteristic smells .^' — Encyclopedia 
Britannica. 


THE SOCIETY OF UNITED FILIPINOS, 

Known under its native name as the Katipunan was 
organized seven or eight years before the outbreak of the 
rebellion against the Spanish, which began in the Philip- 
pinesjn 1896. It was originally formed with the inten- 
tion of resisting the Spanish tax exactions and oppressive 
local laws, and the intense influence of Fraile*^ or 
bands of friars and religious communities over every 
function of domestic life in the Philippines by political 
agitation. 

From this it drifted into a society of immense power 
which included among its members the richest and most 
educated of the Mestizos ; also a number of native 
priests, when it commenced its aggressive operations 
against the Spanish Government, and the rebellion of 
1896 was inaugurated, which for sixteen months devas- 
tated the Island of Luzon with a war which for ferocious 
cruelties on the part of the Spaniards and fearful retalia- 
tions on the part of the Filipinos, and unutterable miseries 
brought upon the inhabitants of the island, combatant 
and non-combatant, has scarcely been equaled by any 
wars except by those waged by Spain in the Netherlands 
in the times of Alva and Alexander Farnese, and the 
more modern campaigns in Cuba under Valmaceda and 
Weyler. 

Among its members were the richest and most educated 
of the Mestizos, the two Roxas, Pedro and Fernando, 
Luna the artist, Atachio, Aguinaldo, etc., also the physi- 
cian, Dr. Jose Rizal, who was one of the professors at 
the Manila University, and who not only arranged the 
constitution of the Katipunan, but also the mystic rites 
of that society which, in their weird and occult blood- 
brotherhood, appealed to the savage and superstitious 
nature of the Malays and Tagals of the islands. Rizal 
was a Spanish Mestizo, a man of high education. He 
spoke a number of languages, and wrote a number of 

*As to the influence of the Fraile upon the social life of the 
Philippines, see article in Singapore Free-Fres^. — Ed. 


APPENDIX. 


Ill 


valuable books which were chiefly political and caused 
his exile at one time from the islands. 

The “ blood-brotherhood ” mark of the Katipunan was 
made generally on the left forearm, though sometimes on 
the left knee, by a^curious knife covered with the symbols 
of the Society, a good many of which were taken from 
Masonic emblems. 

The intention of the Katipunan was to inaugurate its 
rebellion by the assassination of General Blanco on Sep- 
tember 15th, 1896, and on the day of his burial to attack 
the funeral procession and make itself master of the old 
Citadel of Santiago and the walled town of Manila with 
its batteries,, arsenals and barracks. But this plot being 
discovered, some say by the wife of Pedro Roxas, who 
was a devotee and revealed it at confessional to her re- 
ligious director who in turn made it known to the Captain 
General (or the more common report), by the sister of 
one of the printers of the documents of the Society, 
making it known under the confessional to Padre Gil, the 
Cura of the Tondo, one of the suburbs of Manila, and 
he in turn disclosing it to the Spanish authorities. 

Forewarned, the Spanish Captain-General arrested the 
chief leaders in the Society during the month of August ; 
among them the two Roxas, though one of them, Pedro, 
by bribing of the Spanish officer in charge of him 
made his escape. Rizal also fled to Spain, though he 
was captured and brought back to Manila and executed 
in the presence of a large concourse of people, many of 
them ladies and children, on the Luneta, December 30th, 
1896. 

By these arrests, the original plan of the rebellion was 
modified so that the insurgents made their opening attack 
on Manila on August 30th, and from that time until 
Aguinaldo’s purchase by the Spanish authorities during 
December, 1897, made unceasing war upon the Spaniards, 
devastating the island. They were utterly crushed, and 
had not Dewey’s squadron annihilated the Spanish fleet 
on May ist, 1898, would never have raised arms against 
Spain. — E d. 

****** 

THE KATIPUNAN MARKS ON THE BODY, 

And Spain’s terror of, hatred and ferocity to, this 
society are noted in the following extracts taken from a 


iv 


APPENDIX. 


letter from Manila to the New York Sun of October 2 2d, 
1898 : 

‘ If you want to go straight to Spanish hell, you join 
Katipunan * * * * To be suspected of being ‘ Kati- 
punan ” is sufficient ground for life imprisonment in the 
Philippines. 

“ Several of them frankly admitted to Capt. Moffett 
that they were members. They even showed him the 
marks which proved their initiation. All who join the Kati- 
punan sign the roll in their own blood. The third finger 
of the left hand is pricked at the tip until the blood runs 
and with that blood they sign. Then as a sure sign of 
membership a vein is opened in the left forearm in such 
fashion that the wound will certainly leave a scar, or a 
wound is made in the left breast that will leave a round 
scar like a vaccination mark.” 


THE SUPREME COURT OF MANILA, 

Generally called by the Spaniards the high Audiencia^ 
is the only offset to the power of the Governor-General, 
but not a powerful one, as the Governor-General is 
ex-officio President of it, though he very seldom appears 
in his judicial role. 

The court consists of a regent and five auditors or 
judges, besides two fiscals or solicitor-generals, one for 
civil, the other for criminal procedure, and as far as can 
be learned from its records, is equal in tyrannical injustice^ 
illogical conclusions^ medieval methods of procedure^ barring 
the torture chamber^ to any court ever invented to give injustice 
to mankind^ as will be seen from the following : 

“ M. Malate says the weakest part of the administration 
of the Philippines is that of justice. One of the great 
grounds of complaint is the imprisonment of the accused 
during the collection of evidence. This sometimes keeps 
a party on trial before conviction many years, it being 
optional for the prison to accept or refuse bail in all cases 
before trial, and sometimes refused on very arbitrary 
grounds. Thus the accused is sometimes imprisoned 
until he dies, yet never tried.” — De Morgan’s Philip- 
pines. 


APPENDIX. 


V 


John Foreman in his book on the Philippine Islands, 
published in 1890, has the following : 

No man can have a greater calamity than a civil or 
criminal lawsuit in Manila. He is generally destroyed 
by notaries, procurators, solicitors, and is driven to de- 
spair and poverty. Often after a case is decided, to give 
these hangers-on of the law more work and plunder, the 
case is reopened on some technical ground and gone over 
again. A man once accused of homicide, and tried and 
acquitted in a local court, came up to Manila in order to 
insure himself from all further prosecution. He obtained 
from the supreme court an affirmation of the verdict, but 
this simple proceeding cost him so much that he had to 
mortgage all his property, and finally borrow money from 
his friends. Still, after returning to his province, a new 
judge wishing to make more money reopened the case a 
number of years after, and the persecuted one having 
used all his resources, was sentenced to prison for eight 
years. 

“ In one instance the descendants of a family who had 
owned and occupied land for a hundred years, its estate 
being claimed by the Augustins, dared to ask for a tiUdio 
real^ or written title, and for this were all banished from 
Luzon.” 


In regard to imprisonment without trial — without even 
charges entered against prisoners, the following paragraph, 
taken from the Manila correspondence of the New York 
Sun of Oct. 23, 1898, may give some suggestion that the 
case of the daughters of Captain Gordon was not 
without parallel or precedent in the Philippines under 
Spanish judicial methods. — ed. 

“ It was when Captain Moffett began to investigate the 
roll of prisoners that he came across the iniquity of Span- 
ish institutions. It stirs an angry feeling in the blood of 
an American and provokes a wish that after all Dewey’s 
guns had been turned loose on the cruel Spaniards to 
know such things as went on in the make-believe courts 
of Manila. The Spaniards talk and boast of a proud 
old civilization. But a civilization which makes war on 
women and which sentences men to jail for life on mere 
suspicion, is no civilization. * * * * * »» 


VI 


APPENDIX. 


First on the roll were the women, twenty-eight of them. 
Engracia Tanoy led the list, and bracketted with her were 
Maximiana Duran, Tomasa Palupo, Felipa Quique and 
Gregoria Tio. The record showed, and the commitments 
agreed with it, that they had been in the Bilibid prison 
since July ii, 1889, on the order of the Captain-General, 
without trial, for the offense of resisting the armed forces 
of Spain. Five little native women in chains and the 
giant great heart in the Governor’s palace sends them to 
prison for life without trial. 

Then there was Dorotea Arceaga, committed on Aug. 
8, 1895, for “sacrilege” after a trial by court-martial. 
She was the teacher of a little school for native children. 
Dorotea was a devout Catholic and went to mass in the 
old red brick church in Malate where now Aguinaldo’s 
men house themselves. 

Dorotea was comely, and the priest to whom she con- 
fessed was a devil in a black robe. Dorotea had that 
instinctive regard for her own honor which not even the 
training she had had could remove, and her father con- 
fessor found a spirit he could not defile, a will he could 
not break. He went to the Captain-General and said 
Dorotea had stolen a chalice from his church. There- 
upon the good-looking little school-teacher was charged 
with “ insurrection ” and “sacrilege,” and a court-martial 
sent her to Bilibid to end her days. Two cases showed 
where the despicable Spaniard had tried to cover his 
tracks. The second gave the date of commitment of 
Dona Maxima Guerrera as July ii, 1890, but it speci- 
fied no crime. The Captain-General was named as the 
committing magistrate, and there was no record of trial. 
Captain Moffett called for the original commitment papers, 
and there the story was revealed. She had been in 
Bilibid since 1890. In the summer of that year, when she 
was fifty-one years old, she had resisted the armed forces 
of Spain. She was a widow. Her husband had accu- 
mulated some property, and she was worth about $40,000. 
Most of it was in land, there was valuable timber on the 
land, and one day when the Captain-General needed 
some money he sold the wood to a contractor of Manila. 
He didn’t mention the transaction to Dona Maxima, and 
the first she knew of it was when the contractor’s men ap- 
peared and began to cut down her trees. Then she 
fought. The soldiers came to enforce the Captain-Gen- 


APPENDIX. 


Vll 


eral’s order and see that the wood was cut, and Dona 
Maxima resisted them. She made no denial of that fact. 
She had been in prison eight years for it, but she would 
do it again. The soldiers brought her to Manila, and the 
Captain-General sent her to Bilibid. Then he sold land 
as well as wood, and was $40,000 richer, with no one but 
Dona Maxima to make complaint — no one but a few na- 
tives, who did not count with the Captain-General. 

Fulgencia Mason was sent to Bilibid on July ii of that 
year also, for no recorded offense. The original commit- 
ment papers in Jier case showed that she, too, had been 
imprisoned in 1890, when she was accused of uttering 
forged telegraph stamps. There was no record of any 
trial, but the papers did show that she had been released 
in 1891 and had been at liberty for nearly a year, when 
she was rearrested on the old charge. She had been in 
the prison ever since without trial. * * ♦ * When 
she had been in prison a year she found out that 
for $900 the judge would liberate her. Her friends 
helped and with what she had she got together the $900 
bribed the judge and was let out of the prison. She had 
her freedom for nearly a year ; then the judge went home 
to Spain, and a new scoundrel took his place. The out- 
going judge had been in office some time and had robbed 
himself rich*. He was satisfied with a comparatively 
small bribe, but the incoming thief was poor. It was a 
case of a brand-new Captain in a fat precinct. He wanted 
everything in sight. He heard of Fulgencia and de- 
manded $3,000 as the price of her continued liberty. He 
might as well . have demanded $3,000,000, it was as much 
within her reach. She couldn’t pay and had been in 
Bilibid ever since. 


EXTRACT FROM SINGAPORE FREE PRESS. 

AUGUST 2d, 1888. 

It is proper to assume that in both cases, Cuba and the 
Philippines, the main features of Spanish administration — 
call it maladministration if you will — were practically 
identical ; and that, therefore, all the consequent grievances 
and disabilities that ensued, to the disadvantage of the 
two populations were similar in nature, and, perhaps, in 
intensity. 


Vlll 


APPENDIX. 


Had that been all, the mild and tractable Filipino popula- 
lation might never have showed intolerance of Spanish 
rule in the way in which their brothers in misfortune in 
Cuba have done. But within the Philippines there has 
existed for centuries a dominant power that has absolutely 
overridden the entire civil and military executive, and by 
influence over these has in effect held in the hollow of its 
hand the lives and fortunes of each individual Filipino be- 
yond all hope of appeal for protection to the ordinary 
tribunals of the law. We refer, of course, to the great 
religious fraternities who sway to their arbitrary will 
every power of Church and State in the Philippines. 
Their members, in many instances, are grasping, unscru- 
pulous and vicious. It has been related by those who 
know that the honor of wife or the virtue of daughter 
of the unlucky Filipino is held at the disposal of the 
Fraile, on demand. Resistance to such a demand means 
certain denouncement of the victim to the civil power as 
a “ Freemason ” or a “ sympathizer with insurrectos .” 
The civil official knows much better than to question any 
charge of this kind emanating from such a source, and 
the unlucky man vanishes, perhaps forever, from his 
family. What goes on in the Philippine prisons, without 
trial, in the way of torture, misery, thirst, starvation, 
mutilation and murder has been of late a common enough 
theme. These religious orders have, it is well known, 
been expelled from Spain ; they have no existence in 
Cuba : but the unfortunate Spanish colony of the Philip- 
pines has been their happy hunting-ground for many gen- 
erations. 

It is against the intolerable centuries of oppression and 
extortion at the hands of these religious incorporations and 
their pliant tools of the civil power that the Filipinos have 
entered upon their struggle, now at last crowned with suc- 
cess, owing to the encouraging influence and aid of 
Admiral Dewey. 


EXTRACT FROM INTERVIEW WITH MAJOR GENERAL 
MERRIT, COMMANDER OF THE UNITED STATES FORCES AT 
MANILA, AT PARIS MONDAY OCTOBER 3d, 1898. — NeW 

York Herald. 

** In this connection it may be interesting to note that 


APPENDIX. 


IX 


among the complications prevailing in the religious world 
in the Philippines the Jesuits and their native priests are 
popular among the Filipinos, while on the other hand the 
monastic orders are bitterly hated. This is caused by 
their aggressions and oppressions. The monks own every- 
thing ; they use the natives to cultivate their lands, and 
then turn them off after the land has been worked into 
good condition. 

“ The Filipinos allege that the monastic orders have also 
debauched their women, and I have been told some very 
horrible stories in^ this regard. I do not know anything 
of course, about this ; I only tell you what are common 
reports in this respect. Every student of Blackstone 
knows very well what was considered in the olden times 
to be the feudal right of the lord over the female vassel 
who married on his estates. It may be surprising to 
many to learn that the Filipinos allege vehemently that 
the monastic Orders claim and exact this feudal right on 
the marriage of the young Philippine girls, but I must re- 
mind you that again that I am relating to you simply and 
solely common reports in the country. 

“ In any case I can assert without a shadow of doubt, 
what the Herald’s readers have been previously told by 
its correspondents — that the people are very bitter 
towards the monks. 

“ On the other hand in striking contrast to this openly 
avowed hatred, one may turn to another phase of their 
religious predilections. They are really much attached to 
their own native priests. They are considered to be good 
Catholics, a term easily understood by those who are 
members of that Church. 

“ I mean they are good Catholics so far as their intelli- 
gence renders them capable of thinking and living.” 


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